House of Glass
by ODSK
Summary: *set after Wolves, before TTK* Under the undying eye of the Grand Star, on the barren wastes of Mars, the Fallen stir. An unknown House, hiding in the shadows of humanity, embarks on a sacred quest. Their Kell promises them an unyielding reward if they succeed, but how many must fall before they achieve it? (Art done by SimplyaChair, at deviantart)
1. Chapter 1:The Raid

**Chapter 1: The Raid**

The gaze of the Grand Star lingered in the rusty sky, and all withered under its relentless heat. The wind choked and sputtered sand into her eyes. The decrepit buildings weren't any better off - many were filled with sand long ago. They were now just empty husks, oppressive obelisks dotting the landscape and breaking up the monotony of the never-ending dunes. The dunes themselves stretched on infinitely, and if it weren't for the grand star in the sky there would be no way to tell how far they had travelled, and for how long their pilgrimage had lasted.

The grand star, in its oppressive might, was beautiful in its own way. Were it not for its existence, this barren hunk of sand would have never felt footsteps across its dusty plains; the spires, now just husks of their former glory, might never have had those glory days in the first place. Once brimming with technology, it has long since been broken or looted, much like the room she lay in now.

A slight, almost undetectable nudge on her left shoulder perked her senses back to her original task. She rotated her neck to eye the Sniper beside her. With a smooth motion, he drew her attention with a point from his upper right arm, aiming it down into the clearing below their position, and returned to his scope. She rubbed the dusty sand off the rangefinder and cleared the lenses before closing two of her four eyes. The Wolves stirred below, thinking they were clever by using smaller numbers to avoid unwanted attention. That wasn't surprising. What was surprising was the heavy load of equipment they were hauling for such a small scouting crew.

"Numbers," the Sniper demanded with little more than a whisper.

"Twelve, maybe more," she reported, occasionally wiping the lenses to clear it of debris as she scanned around.

The Fallen crew below were on guard, heavily armed, and expertly trained, for Wolves at least.

Safe…

...or so they thought.

"Kinda odd, Sha'ka, to see so much guarded by so few," the Sniper commented on her assessment.

"You should know what kind of power that yields, Kirrev. We roam these wastes… do we not?"

The Sniper shrugged. "True… yet we are small, and have no room for error," the Sniper said, keeping his eyes locked through the sights.

"Exactly, and that is what they lack. Caution. Why else would they have positioned themselves so poorly, made themselves so vulnerable, at the bottom of these rusted buildings? It will be their undoing," she remarked quite smugly. The Sniper had a little snicker under his breather from the comment.

"So it would seem…. It is go on my signal, yes?" The Sniper sought the answer as he gazed intensely through his scope.

"You see the captain?" She looked over to the Sniper while he focused.

"I have a… better target," the Sniper whispered, a touch of excitement in his tone. "A tall, proud, Baron... enjoying the view," she couldn't see it, but the Sniper had a ripe, murderous, grin under the mask.

The Wolf Baron gazed around at the buildings while the Sniper eased onto the trigger, charging up the shot. The Baron's eyes lit up for a moment, catching the energy building in the Sniper's barrel. But it was already too late.

The bolt rang out across the sands. The Wolf Baron jerked, the Arc bolt landing in his shoulder instead of his head. He nearly went down from the force of the impact alone, and would have if he was anything lesser. Scrambling for cover, all the while nursing his now-unusable upper arm, he found a crate nearby in a sand dune. The Baron pulled his weapon up from behind his waist with his lower two arms, popping up to fire.

The Baron screeched, and all the dregs around him watched in horror as a blade split his spine, immobilized him with shocking pain while another sword wrapped its edge around his neck to slit it clean. He keeled over, desperately clinging to his neck. The dark sand-coloured stealth captain that had ended the _noble_ Wolf's life quickly melded back into the shadows. Enveloped once again by the cloaking device it valued so highly.

The signal had been given.

The raid was on.

Before the Wolf crew knew what was coming, a screeching war cry was heard and small storm of ruthless dregs breached the outer layer of the minimal defenses the Wolves had set up, and began to work on their slaughter. They hacked and slashed at anything that wasn't the colour of the red sand below them, cutting the unprepared Wolf crew into shreds before they could mount a proper defense.

Just to their rear, a large Fallen warrior wielding two razor-sharp sabres led the second charge, running alongside a small trio of vandals not even half his size, followed by an Archon almost equal in height. He was their Kell. Prideful, as Kells ought to be, and very dangerous. He slashed into a captain who had tried to rally the remaining crew to a defense, his metallic blade cutting deep into the shoulder of his foe. The remaining vandals tried to flee behind the dregs that were being torn to shreds by their equally blood thirsty counterparts. One of the Wolf's vandals was caught and dragged away by a few of the dregs.

He didn't last long.

Two of the raiding dregs were not as zealous as their brethren. They took cover behind some of the supply crates, shots ringing over their heads as the remaining Wolves tried to return fire. They waited till they heard the Wolf energy rifles fall silent, then charged head on into their flimsy defense. One dreg launched a barrage of explosives from his modified shrapnel launcher. The other, killing whatever was left after the smoke settled. It seemed to take particular satisfaction in watching the Wolves squirm before he pounced.

"Hey Sha'ka," one of the vandals started on their comm channel, "Remember that time you almost lost your head doing this back on-"

"Get off the comms!" The Sniper growled harshly, interrupting the friendly vandal.

The vandal was about to snarl back, but she was interrupted by the brawl that had erupted behind her. A Wolf stealth vandal had tried to sneak behind their lines. He had been intercepted, and dealt with thoroughly. The taller vandal that had saved his comrade turned to her and patted her on the shoulder before looking out for more unwanted guests.

Another vandal charged his way up past the dregs, unloading his shrapnel launcher into the wolves. The fragments shredded the armor and tore into the flesh beneath. The scorched skin smoked from the burning wounds as the Reaver lined up his next shot.

The Sniper above noticed a lonely dreg making his way back to camp, frozen in fear while of adjusting its pants. The Sniper ended its life with a precise bolt of energy piecing its unprotected skull.

"Nice shot," Sha'ka complimented as she watched the brawling below through her rangefinder. The Sniper gave a slight nod, then continued to pick off any strays he saw.

At last, there was only one who remained. The Wolf vandal, even though grizzled, shook with twitching fear of those who surrounded him. Dregs, nearly lost in a crazed blood lust, flanked his left. Deadly, yet restrained, vandals to his right. They broke apart and let their Kell approach from the middle, menacing with his staggeringly tall form and bloodstained sabers. His formidable size forced the Wolf to back up. As the Wolf was halted by a minor thud, his spine stiffened. The desert captain behind him took a whiff of his scent.

It could smell his fear.

Before the Wolf could make a break, he was caught and pinned by the captain's strong arms while the blade of a shock sword was slashed across his neck. He died when he hit the floor. Blue blood spilling in a massive pool on the melting sand at their feet.

Up in their perch, the Sniper glanced at Sha'ka. They both nodded wordlessly at each other, and set their course to join the others below. A roar of victory could be heard echoing across the martian sands….

They were greeted by cheerful roars at the bottom. Their comrades claiming the loot before them. Dregs scrambling for Ether while the vandals stocked up on any ammo they could find.

"Look at all this gear!" Brax counted at least twenty shock rifles, a wide array of sabres, shock pistols, a couple shrapnel launchers, and even a fabled Scorch cannon.

"We will be stocked on ammo for weeks!" Keesa chirped happily.

"With any luck, it will stay that way," Monix declared while watching the dregs bash each other for any free Ether seeds and pods they could scrounge off the corpses.

As they passed by their fellow Vandal comrades, Sha'ka noticed the heads of the House in a heated conversation with one another. She walked a little closer, a little slower, managing to overhear parts of it.

"Krystan, this whole ordeal is a foolish endeavor! We can scavenge Ether elsewhere, like we have done so before!" One of the Archons shouted. This one was covered in a dark coat of fur, and proudly bore a chain of ghost shells around his mask. He was known as Dressix, the High Priest of House Glass.

"It is just like you Dressix, to undermine the Kell's leadership when he needs the support of the House the most! Backup your tongue with your blade, or I will cut it off!" This one was the other Archon of the house, with deep charcoal skin proudly bearing white war paint. Faxiss, the Head-hunter.

"You two squabble like children while standing over the remains of our enemies? If you want a unified House, Faxiss, perhaps you should act like it! Join the celebration, go see to it that no one was injured in the fighting." This one was known as Krystan, Kell of House Glass. Dual swords hung at his hip, but they were not the shock swords many other Kell favor. These were from a time long ago, and the signs of painstaking care shows through in their elegantly curved blades.

"As you wish, my Kell, but do not let this minor treachery get under your skin. I remain loyal as ever, my Kell." Faxiss started to back away, before Krystan grasped his shoulder and brought him close. Krystan whispered something in Faxiss' ear. Faxiss nodded, and bowed his head down to his waist before he left Krystan and Dressix alone.

"Krystan, my stance has not changed. I stand by this being a foolish endeavor that can only overthrow the tenuous balance of the house. What if they do not accept our offer? What if we do not receive enough? We have burned much of our precious little Ether supply on this raid instead of focusing on establishing a home for ourselves! What if we end up-"

"I will not have it!" Krystan growled angrily at the Archon, who made no attempt to back down willingly. Instead, he leaned closer to his Kell, challenging him. The tension was almost palatable. Dressix glared daggers into Krystan, almost gazing into his very soul. "I am Kell of this house, you are merely an Archon. You may enforce the will of the _servitors_ , but I enforce the will of the _god of old_ , and I will not accept dissent in this House!" Krystan pushed further, standing nearly a head over Dressix and overshadowing him.

Dressix did not hide the disagreeing twitches he felt one bit, but he could tell he was beat. The Archon nearly bit his tongue to control himself from pressing the matter further. Eventually, he backed down. "House Glass must stand united if we are to survive," he dipped his head slightly, a slight sign of respect, but refused to bow completely.

Krystan never let his gaze leave Dressix as the Archon marched off to convene with the few servitors they had. Dressix occasionally glared towards Krystan, but quickly shifted his gaze when he noticed others watching. His Kell watched him grumble to the servitors, no doubt filling them in on their failed attempt to divert their course. Only then did Krystan let his gaze rest on something else.

The Kell's towering gaze caught a whiff of a vandal to his right. Sha'ka knew she'd been seen, and didn't try to hide it. She and The Sniper slowly approached their Kell, stopping a couple meters before him, and slowly eased themselves into a respecting bow. Krystan returned a blank stare at the Sniper when they reared back up.

"Good work," he began with little emotion in his voice. A sharp nod was returned by the vandals below. Then he turned to Sha'ka. "Thanks to your bravery today, the raid was undoubtedly a massive success! Without someone up there to support us, they might have taken a life or two," he directed his praise to Sha'ka for her plan. Sha'ka made no attempt to correct him, as one does not point out a Kell's flaws while the whole House was watching. She'd tell him later though, she didn't deserve the credit after all, she wasn't the one pulling the trigger. Behind her though, Kirrev made a silent grin under his mask. He raised his head a little higher after hearing the Kell's words of praise.

"My Kell, what are we to do with all the supplies?" Sha'ka asked, the question undoubtedly on everyone's minds.

"We shall gather what we can and hope it is enough for those Ether-hoarding bastards." Krystan grumbled. He gazed over his small house, less than twenty in number, all hanging on his word like a pack of starved animals.

"Do you think they will give us enough to make it?" Sha'ka questioned, clicking worry filling her voice.

"We must hope they will be generous." Krystan's answer was less than promising. "The Cabal have no use for their Ether hoard, so they'll relish the opportunity to exchange weapons for it. We cannot let this opportunity pass, and bargaining is the only course. The might of the Cabal armada is too strong, and if they pursued us throughout the wastes our pilgrimage would be nearly impossible. We must strike a deal," He perked his head high and started again. "We have an excess of munitions anyway. Can you imagine what would happen if the dregs got a hold of something bigger then a shock pistol?" The House gave a small chuckle at that, especially Tasus, a Reaver dreg who wields his blood-soaked Shrapnel launcher. Even Dressix chuckled, interrupting his conversation with the servitor.

Sha'ka tried to lighten everyone's spirits a little more, "We have been through worse, I am certain that-," when she was interrupted by Dressix's thundering steps.

"My Kell, there is-"

"What is it the issue, Dressix," Krystan hissed at the Archon, who was in no mood for arguing. The Archon stopped, growling low, but remained centered.

"My Kell, there is another problem… with the servitors," he regretfully informed. There was worry in his tone. Worry that Krystan could not ignore.

Krystan nodded solemnly, turning back to the two Vandals before him. "Kirrev, go find Hassaka. She'll want someone to keep her company while we clean this up," he ordered. Kirrev's eyes flared, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Krystan growled. Kirrev knelt acquiescently before standing and leaving to pursue his task. Krystan then gave a gentle release of Sha'ka's presence and bid her a farewell before seeing to their servitor problem.

"What is the issue, Archon," Krystan followed Dressix around a corner, the shadow of the building hiding them from the intense sunlight. Dressix called forth one of the servitors. The floating metal orb was rusted and worn, lumbering as it approached. Its shell bore hundreds of small modifications, yet it still was barely enough to keep the thing floating.

"This one is having… difficulties producing Ether for the House. I believe that it can be fixed, but we will need more parts from the Cabal to repair its Ether replicator," He explained. Krystan was displeased with this revelation, and about to speak, but Dressix had not yet finished. He sent the servitor back and called forth the second. This one carried less carnage, but was equally worn.

"This one's sensor unit is damaged. It has lost its radar completely, and will soon lose its sight," He growled his grunts heavily, then sent the servitor back.

"And what of the Prime?" Krystan clicked curiously with worry.

Dressix failed to make eye contact with his Kell as he summoned forth the Prime, Kleenix. It was slightly larger than the others, but bore the most damage. Dents and scratches clearly visible on its outer shell. Some of the outer shell had rusted away in it's entirety, revealing the interior mechanisms. Half of it seemed to be held together by whatever they had on hand, and the other half appeared to be looted from a car somewhere on the road. It could barely scrape enough strength to present itself before the Kell. When it was just a few meters away, it began to falter. The massive frame nearly came smashing onto the soft sand below, had it not been for Dressix who caught it and helped stabilize the Prime.

Krystan's spirits sank at the sight of their distressed Prime. He would not ask for a diagnostics report. He already knew the problem. "How long do we have?" Krystan gripped his hands tightly into fists.

"According to my calculations, my systems will only have 50 percent reliability by the end of the next star rise. My stabilizer units are failing more often, and my core is prone to overheating," Kleenix's robotic servitor voice gave him the rundown. Krystan's thoughts swirled around him, taunting. He broke away for a moment to think, turning his back to Archon and Prime. He trusted neither, but knew that if the House was to survive, so would they.

"We need those parts, Krystan!" Kleenix advised forcefully, almost as if he were still an insignificant pup, demanding milk from his mother.

Krystan shot his gaze back to the Prime, annoyance and hatred in his eyes. He wanted to gut the machine where it stood, but alas he could not. Not if it meant sacrificing the survival of his House.

"We shall see about the parts Kleenix, but do not forget," Krystan leaned over the failing servitor. "I am the Kell. This House will not need a Prime Servitor for much longer," he growled and walked away in disgust of the disrespect the machine had shown. "And Dressix," he stopped and turned half-way to speak, "If that thing's stabilizers fail again, you are carrying it the whole way," He turned away once more, his mind flooded with new problems that would need to be resolved.

Quickly.

…

Moments after Sha'ka had been dismissed, she was quickly drawn to the commotion over by the more heavily supplied portion of the small encampment. The dregs of her House were all lugging heavy crates around, under orders from Faxiss. The sight made her spirit fade a little, remembering what it's like to be the lowest of the low.

One of the dregs collapsed from the weight, just a few meters in front of her. The weight of the haul was too much for a shamed dreg to bear. The contents of the crate spilled out onto the red sand at his feet. The dreg quickly scrambled to grab all the components and fit them back into the crate. He froze when another arm joined into the mix. Sha'ka, lending a friendly claw, scooped up just a couple handfuls of the components that had fallen out, and helped the dreg put the rest inside, using her under arms. The dreg bowed to her and said a quick prayer for such a sympathetic act.

She gave the dreg a firm pat on the shoulder to get him going again. He did so with new vigor. Sha'ka grabbed a few crates off the ground, carrying them in her four arms next to the rest of the dregs. Her actions received much attention among them. All gave slight nods, appreciating the help of another, especially one of a higher rank. All of them were grateful, except for one. Sha'ka ignored the dreg behind her, her gaze sweeping over his glare like it did not exist. His three eyes stared at her in disapproval. His fourth was gashed with a nasty scar, rendered unusable. He spat at the ground and lumped his crates forward.

Once more, their house began its unyielding march, the blood-stained sands shifting below their feet. The wind whistled above them, carrying with it the echoes of struggles fought long ago. Yet even the wind seemed fearful, for it scampered quickly and quietly, hoping to avoid the gaze of the celestial predator in the sky above: The Grand Star, which had given life to many, could take it away just as easily. Yet Sha'ka knew, and she would not give hers up so easily. Neither would her brothers and sisters. House Glass had survived for years, on many worlds, under the withering gaze of the Grand Star, and she knew that her House would never rest until the blood-curdling heat was but a memory.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

So, here it is, House of Glass. This is a little project me and my friend, Arbiter, concocted during a 7-hour call during the winter, and the first story I'm publishing here * _Inaudible cheering*_. We've got a hell of a story planned for you and we hope you enjoy! All reviews are welcome, you can even PM me if you'd like. I enjoy answer questions and conversing with others. The only thing I disapprove of is pure hatred… and spoilers in later chapters. We try our do our best to edit every fine detail we can without going overboard and ruining the scene. Update times will be a bit hazy at the moment as both of us have a shit ton of stuff to do, but I have already gone through another good portion of chapter 2; so essentially, you're waiting on the editor more than me... _Sorry Arbiter._ Once again, we're all gonna get ready for a wild ride, but don't brace yourself too quickly, we're just getting started! Until next time, this is ODSK.

 **Editor's Note:**

 _What up guys_ , Arbiter here. I'm ODSK's friend, editor, and general rubber ducky for bouncing ideas off of. We've got a freakin amazing story here for ya, that we're excited to finally reveal (gtfo haters). You have no clue how long we've been waiting for this moment. If you somehow do you're a creep and I'm calling the police. Next chapter will be uploaded in due time as soon as ODSK gets off his lazy- I mean as soon as we get it nice and polished for you guys. See ya next time!

 **Disclaimer:**

Arbiter: Hey, this is fanfiction! It's basically implied that I don't own this. Why do people always have to stick a disclaimer in their story! We get it! It's **fan** fiction! I just don't-

ODSK: and now Arbiter's lost his disclaimer privileges…

 **REAL DISCLAIMER:**

We do not own Destiny - that's owned by Bungie and Activision - but we are taking full claim over our characters! We love them!

 **Special thanks:**

 **To my friend Max, who helped with one of the Characters (I'll let you guess, I ain't saying squat!)**

 **To Arbiter my friend, and amazing editor!**

 **To my friend, who I will refer to as, R.R. who made the cover! You can find him as Simplyachair at DeviantArt.**

 **UPDATE MAY 28 2017**

 **To Rythox, a general Grammar Nazi who no one knows about.**

P.S. This Story, for specific reasons we do not tell, is set after House of Wolves, but before the Taken King.


	2. Chapter 2: The March

**Chapter 2: The March**

The day drew long, the sky slowly turning dark as night fell on their march. Krystan at the head, the rest single file, hiding their numbers to any would-be tracker. The day had been good to them, and they had gained great ground during their march; but the winds began to change.

The barren husk of a planet they found themselves on was a roaring blaze during the day, but somehow became even worse by nightfall. With the sun gone, and the warm sands blowing into the sky, temperatures dropped swiftly. With the cold came a different kind of threat: frostbite.

The dregs limped across the dunes almost at the rear of the line, their hands numb and strained from the crates of ammunition they bore. Vandals bore their own weapons, and were trusted with a portion of their limited Ether supply. Dressix drew up the rear, his servitors close behind. To almost everyone's surprise, the Archon had somehow kept them afloat.

"My Kell, the night grows cold and dark. Perhaps we should locate shelter?" Faxiss suggested, exhaustion apparent in his voice as he called just behind Krystan. He fiddled with his newly acquired scorch cannon, not quite used to the weight yet.

"We must push onwards. The Wolves have no doubt caught our scent, so we must cross the divide before they cross us," Krystan mumbled. Faxiss gave a simple nod, as they marched on.

"Bleh," Brax huffed. "This better be worth it," his concern echoing from the middle of the line.

"It will," Sha'ka was quick to set him straight as their trek continued. "It will not be too much longer. A few more dunes, at most."

"I hope you are right," Brax followed closely behind Sha'ka. " _Just a little further"_ he whispered to himself.

"Brax?" A soft voice tapped his shoulder. He turned his head but kept walking.

"Yes, Keesa," he said with a particular joy in his tone. "Need me to hold those for you?" he extended his two lower arms towards her, an offer.

"What? Oh, no, I am fine," she chirped. Lumbering the array of weapons over her shoulders and grasped in her weathered gloves.

"Keesa, come on," he took an extra sabre and shock rifle from her without giving time to protest. "You are going to hurt yourself," he adjusted for the increase in weight and marched on.

"I am not a princess, Brax," those nearby chuckled a little. "I can carry my own weight. I am not a little thrall," Brax didn't pay attention to her protest. He quickly scaled the next dune with Sha'ka.

"Pipe down, Keesa, he does it because he _loves_ you," Monix kept them moving from the rear -followed by the dregs and servitors.

Keesa snuffed a little laugh out because of the comment. She knew it to be true, but that didn't mean she can't hold her own.

"What are the Wolves doing on Mars anyway?" Sha'ka questioned. "They are not after the Promised land too… are they?"

"Doubtful, last I heard they were slaves to that… _queen_ ," Dressix sounded like he wanted to gag himself at the mere mention of it. " _And who would honestly be so naive to come here in search of anything?"_ He whispered to himself, slowly shaking his head. " _Nothing but sand, stones, and the grand star survive out here in this damned wasteland."_

"Personally, I think they are trying to set up here," Monix commented. "All those supplies looked like a forward station."

"Then why was it almost completely unprotected?" Tasus perked up.

"Shut up and keep moving," Dressix enforced. For a few moments, everyone fell quiet.

"The Wolves are prideful and foolish. I like them, they make for easy kills!" Faxiss answered, defying Dressix's command. Dressix growled, but as another Archon, there wasn't much Dressix could do about it.

Sha'ka followed suit, checking the back of the line for a moment. "Where are Kirrev and Hassaka?" she asked.

"Scouting, to ensure our safety as we pass through these wastes," Krystan responded.

They cleared the next couple dunes. All were exhausted, especially the dregs. Krystan desperately wanted to push onwards, but he could not ignore the needs of his house. They need to rest.

As they overcame yet another dune, larger than the last two combined, he straightened with relief. A city glimmered in the distance, the tips of the skyscrapers still catching the dying light of the sun. "The Cabal outpost is just ahead, deep in the metropolis." He announced, pointing to the buildings gleaming in the distance. Nearby though, there must be shelter. Krystan relayed their needs to the scouts.

The scouts answered, and he charged on, his House following with renewed capacity. The coming cold faded out of their thoughts. A few hundred meters away stood Hassaka, and Kirrev stood next to her, flickering his shock blade like a lighthouse guiding ships into harbor.

Krystan was the first to greet them. They kneeled at his approach, coming up slowly in respect. "Hassaka, report." He leaned in eagerly.

She leaned up to him. " _Cave ahead,"_ she said in a hushed tone, " _safe from Cabal and Wolves alike,"_ then she leaned away. The stealth captain pointed over a couple dunes to where their shelter lay. Without knowing what to look for, there's no doubt the marching House would have missed it.

Krystan nodded in acknowledgement, motioning the rest of the House to continue the trek. They reached the cave in short notice, passing over craggy ground on the way. Krystan went in first, steel sabres in hand. Larger inside than out, it would be a good place to stay the night. When he was satisfied, he invited the House in. The servitors glowed dimly, illuminating the dregs as they scampered to place their crates down in a far corner, then settling in together in a huddle. Some vandals relieved themselves of their weapons, glad to be rid of the burden. Others only left a few, resolved to keep a weapon on hand in case of attack. Others never made the stop in the first place.

Monix reported to Faxiss for assignment. On his shoulder was a marking of a shield, something Keesa, Sha'ka, Hassaka, and him had come up with. Each bore a mark on their shoulders, unique to them and them alone. Monix stood attentively next to Faxiss, not raising his gaze but holding his rifle proudly across his chest.

"Rest Monix, I will hold the first watch. You can hold the third," Faxiss released the dedicated vandal. Monix bowed and marched off to find a place to rest. Faxiss stole one of the dregs, no doubt giving him the second watch, and then made his own way towards the entrance. When he thought Monix was out of sight, he slumped his shoulders and sighed, taking up a comfortable position by the entrance.

Brax found a flat edge to lean himself up on, silently glad that he could rest for a bit before his eventual turn at watch. After a minute of adjusting, another sat between his legs and cuddled against him. Keesa nuzzled her head in the groove under his chin. He could see the little flower mark on her right shoulder, but on the other it bore a hidden blade. He held her close with all four arms.

Sometimes his lower claws would drift. She'd be quick to give him a stinging slap whenever he did so, but he mostly kept to holding her though. A soft, soothing, vibration trilling through both of them as they quickly faded into their own separate dreams.

Kirrev observed from a distance. Not sure what to make of it. He knew it was something called 'love', but he had never been taught such a lesson. It must not be important.

Sha'ka set herself down across from him, a few meters away from Brax and Keesa. She undid her dusty cloak around her shoulders, rolling it up like a scroll, and nestled her helmeted head on it. The markings on her shoulder pads were visible, even in the dark of the cave. On her right, a broken chain. On her left, an odd creature that Kirrev remembers from the snow world. The same planet that held the Great Machine. Sha'ka's creature bore two wings with a slim, almost frail, body holding them together. He had seen this creature before once, but he did not know what it meant.

Sha'ka popped an Ether pod into her mask, filling it with the gaseous vapor that they so desperately needed to survive. She sighed and relaxed, taking in the sweet vapours. They reminded her of a time long ago, back before she was even born, when they hadn't needed the masks. When they could breathe the Ether through the air itself, when their biggest concern wasn't whether or not they would have enough to breathe the next day. Sha'ka settled in, and soon enough drifted off into the dreamscape.

Hassaka sat down beside her and gave Kirrev a menacing glare. He lowered his gaze, avoiding hers. A moment later, someone was nudging at his shoulder.

"Kirrev," Monix planted himself next to the sniper. "How about we sleep back to back? No doubt it will be better than hard rock," he suggested. Kirrev silently questioned, but after a moment he agreed, turning to his side and leaning back to back. Monix's warmth radiating outwards, enveloping Kirrev, making him feel at ease. His back was surprisingly solid, it reminded him of one of the beds he slept on in his old house. Comfortable, but firm. You knew that it'd never give out beneath you, no matter the stress it was under. Kirrev found it rather cozy as he pulled out his shock dagger, examining it for any new faults in its design. Finding none, he brought up his wire rifle. The stock bore a series of engravings made by his blade, each a small slash. He had 39 to count. He added three more for the Wolves he had slain earlier.

Monix perked up as the dagger's blade cut into the wooden stock. He turned his head and spoke, "how many?"

Kirrev, nearly caught off guard by the question, suspiciously responded. "42…"

"Heh heh. Not bad," Monix snarked, laying his rifle on his knees. "I started losing track around 10, didn't feel worthwhile anymore," He was still for a moment, then snorted.

"What is it?" Kirrev asked, slightly curious, slightly concerned.

"One time, Kell Krystan told us that 42 is a 'lucky number' for many humans. I guess there is a reward for keeping track," he turned back to his rifle, slowly taking it apart and checking each piece. Kirrev was unmoved by the comment. He thought it foolish that a number could hold such power. Nonetheless, he dropped it to the back of his mind and focused on his wire rifle. He checked the sight several times, switched out the heat sink, and wiped some of the grime to reveal its fading shine.

"Do you know how many kills Tasus has?" Monix asked, interrupting his admiration of the weapon.

"Why would I talk to a filthy low-life-" he snarled at the thought as the words spilled out. The nearby dregs stirred, five of them glaring with unbridled hatred. He eyed them directly, and one by one, until they looked away…

...Slowly.

"Have you learned nothing since your arrival, Kirrev? All are welcome in this house. Krystan calls us a 'Faam-il-ee', because we are supposed to watch our fellow Eliksni's backs. We are all one under his banner, unlike the other Houses," Monix scolded.

"Monix, they are dregs for a reason. They are failures, not worthy to bear all four of their limbs," Kirrev replied, much quieter this time.

"I knew many great fighters who faced the docking blade. They grew stronger because of it. Tasus especially, he thrives under the pressure," Monix was quick to defend his fellow comrades.

"They are forced to fight. They become good at it, yes?" Kirrev inferred.

"Yes, and if you actually treated them with respect, someone else might actually _accept you_ ," he growled.

The words stung at Kirrev's pale heart. He had never been accepted since his arrival… never truly. He thought back to the first day when he finally found them. Even though he showed good intention, proper respect, and even helped them against the Vex, he was despised by the house immediately. He couldn't blame them, any outsider would be taken as a threat, but his colours made it all worse. The bloody gold of House Kings.

It was chance that they allowed him to live, and he counted himself even luckier that they let him stay. He told them he was no friend of House Kings, that he had left that behind him, and he merely sought safety and purpose. Most of the House wanted to rip out his throat, right then and there. He was ever thankful to the Kell who kept them in line.

He knew that if he didn't pull himself out of it now, he'd have another sleepless night ahead of him. "So how many kills has Tasus claimed?" Kirrev quickly asked.

"Last time I asked, around four-hundred and sixty-three." Monix couldn't see it, but Kirrev's eyes lit up like Tasus' shrapnel launcher. Kirrev saw the dreg in a new light, resting back-to-back with Galve away from the other dregs.

"... impressive…," was Kirrev's only response as the House settled in for the night. Dressix conversed with Kleenix while he tinkered with the it's insides. The servitor let out the occasional cough, but otherwise echoed out too quietly to disturb the rest. Faxiss sat near the entrance, deep in conversation with Krystan. Hassaka had stopped glaring at Kirrev, having drifted off to sleep a short time ago. Brax and Keesa still lay in each other's embrace.

"Monix," Kirrev nudged.

"What is it?" Monix turned to listen.

"What does your symbol mean?"

"My…" he looked down at his shoulder pad. "Oh! It is a shield, a piece of metal used to defend from attack. It can be used to defend yourself, or others; but it can also be used to bludgeon someone to death in a pinch." Monix slipped off one of his gauntlets, revealing a thickly wrapped claw. Kirrev's eyes were glued as Monix slowly unwound the cloth. Underneath the skin was twisted and black. He winced as the cool air stung his skin, quickly wrapping it back up. "Bit of advice for you Kirrev, never touch the barrel of a superheated shrapnel launcher, unless it is pointed straight at your friend's face. Then it is acceptable," Monix gave a crooked grin. "The patch was a gift from Keesa, something she made the night we escaped from House of Kings." Kirrev felt curious tonight, so he pressed the matter further.

"What about Keesa?" He whispered. "The blade and the… other one?" he hastily pointed at her shoulders as she slept, nuzzled up against Brax.

"The shape is a flow-er, or so Krystan says. It is quite the sight. You saw them on the snow planet, yes? They sprout after the cold and illuminate the land around. Much like her, everything around them seems sweeter, calmer, quieter." Monix whispered, almost delicately. "The sword, however," his voice grew ever so slightly louder, "resembles her vicious nature."

"Vicious nature? She's tamer than night winds during the dark." Kirrev grumbled jokingly.

Monix chuckled. "True as that may be, you will lose a finger if you are not careful during the depths of the night. The cold can be quite dangerous if you are unprepared. Try not to upset her."

Kirrev's eyes wandered, resting upon his wire rifle, surprised to find it still in pieces. He quickly reassembled it before setting it to the side, within arms reach of course. Kirrev sighed, not ready to rest his head quite yet. Thoughts still clouded his mind, questions that needed answering. One more couldn't hurt. "What does Sha'ka's symbols mean? The winged creature?"

Kirrev was prying for information, and Monix knew that if he denied it Kirrev would back down, but he sighed and gave Kirrev a crooked grin. He knew what was going on here. "It is called a 'butt-err-fly', another creature of the snow world. It starts as a small, insignificant worm, scrounging on the leaves of plants for nourishment. It then forms a 'cac-oon', and then emerges with wings many cycles later. Sha'ka always thought they were… beautiful. She said she never wanted to forget them, it was the one thing she enjoyed in House Kings…" Kirrev paused for a moment. "Did she ever tell you what they did to her?"

Kirrev had no response. He had once overheard her say that the Kings were monsters who did terrible things to innocents, but she didn't seem like one of those innocents. She bore no scars, never once complained of an old wound. Kirrev did not know what she had meant.

Monix took Kirrev's silence as a 'no', and leaned upright against the tall sniper, basking in their shared warmth. He closed his eyes, exhausted from the long march. "Perhaps it is for the best," he sighed. "Not everything can be so easily understood. In time, she may tell you herself," he finished.

Monix fished an Ether pod out of his cloak, attaching it to his mask and letting the fresh gases flow. The sweet Ether soothed his aching muscles, and soon enough Monix found himself drifting off into the dreamscape, leaving Kirrev alone with his thoughts.

The Sniper remembered his first raid. It was back when he was just another lowly vandal, barely worthy of all four arms. He remembered how eager he was to prove himself worthy, how vicious he was, how bloodthirsty, all for the approving eye of one of his captains. In that raid, a Reaver fell next to him, and it fell upon Kirrev to hold the flank. He remembered taking shots that no one else would dare even try, and he eventually learned how to make them hit their mark. The captain was pleased, and so was he. Months later his Baron had taken a slight notice of his growing skill, and assigned him to a squad of Reavers.

None of them spoke much, but he was an exception even among them. He spoke to no one but the Captain, and this earned him the ire of his squad. His Captain told him that it was good, that attachment breeds weakness, and who was he to question his superiors? But that was when he discovered a truth hidden amongst even the most respected of House Kings: slavery.

The word brings a bitter tang to his tongue even now. Kirrev was absolutely disgusted by the very thought of it. All Fallen should be given the chance to ascend, to claim what is theirs by right of arms. Slavery is the antithesis, and he loathed it. So, when he discovered who led the slave-trafficking ring, it was only a matter of time….

One night, on an expedition deep into a human metropolis, Kirrev split off from his squad. They searched, but found nothing. He had vanished without a trace, like a ghost in the night. They labeled him as missing and moved on, but if there was one thing they should have remembered, it was that Kirrev never missed. His Wire Rifle cracked through the air, and split the captain's skull clean open. Not even the captain's shield could have saved him. His squad retaliated, harshly. They peppered the building with so much plasma and heat that Kirrev thought it would collapse beneath him! He knew there was no way he could take them on, so he fled, stealing a skiff later on to escape the snow planet altogether. No matter how righteous his motive, he was a Kingslayer, and that could not go unpunished.

Kirrev brought up an Ether pod from his belt, full of the precious sweet gas they needed to survive. He inserted one end into the left side of his mask to let the Ether flow. Kirrev relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief as the Ether filled his lungs with sweet life in every breath.

Tonight, Kirrev reflected, he had made the right choices.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

He- hello… is this thing on? Ahem! Hello once more, the noble people of fanfiction. I am glad to finally bring to you, Chapter 2. Now, I know the wait was long, and I personally would have probably just thrown this away since it was taking so long for one single chapter, but fear not, we are here and we're in business. Also, this was supposed to be one really fecking huge chapter, but I felt like it was better to end it off here and then cut the remainder for chapter 3 which is almost done, we just need to edit, so that's good.

I want to give a shout out to my first, and only comment so far, _Jayfeattheris Awesome_. Restricting myself by eliminating contractions (except the possessive) has greatly improved my little play on words for the character's dialogue and I believe greatly improves this story. (She hasn't followed this story but I'll throw it out there and message her so she knows)

On a side note though, the real chapter 3 is going to be a bit of a ways away… we have a little something else planned for the time instead. (Relax it's all part of our master plan… and I don't often have the right to say that)

As always, leave a comment (I really like comments! Please comment! I encourage it!) and feel free to PM if you want to do it privately.

Until next time (HOPEFULLY NOT SO LONG) this has been ODSK, signing off.

 **Editor's note:**

Hush ksic, you can't spoil our master plan! It'll make it look much more impressive if they think we just did it all on the fly! Oh, hi! Uhmm, didn't see you standing their reader. Ignore that :) So this chapter should have come out sooner, but it was honestly my fault for not getting to it right away, my b.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed, this one was honestly pretty fun to go over, so I can't imagine what some of the later stuff will look like. I'll see yall next time. This is Arbiter08, signing off o7.


	3. An Interested Party

_**An Interested party**_

 _-Deep within a hidden golden-age bunker: Mars-_

 _3: This is strange… very strange…._

 _2: Oh, pipe down before I make you go back and grab witnesses!_

 _3: There are no witnesses, everyone is… oh, you have learned to joke._

 _2: Hahaha! And you have finally learned sarcasm!_

 _*_ Beep* *Beep*

 _3: Quiet! He calls..._

 **TRANSMISSION LOG - 99**

 **-INCOMING PRIORITY TRANSMISSION-**

 **1: Report.**

 **2: There has been a development…**

 **1: Of what sort?**

 **3: Wolf outpost dismantled. Unknown assailants…**

 **2: No Vex signatures. No Cabal slugs.**

 **1: So what exactly happened?**

 **2: We do not know, they were killed by Fallen weaponry.**

 **1: Did they turn on each other?**

 **3: We do not know for certain, but there is a different scent here…**

 **1: A different scent? How… intriguing….**

 **2: Indeed, though we need more data to form a proper conclusion. It is too early to judge what actually happened-**

 **4: Do not be so quick to dismiss the obvious, Maximus. Our instincts can be scaringly accurate.**

 **3: Arrora…**

 **1: Yes, I requested her presence after your initial sightings. I believe she can be of great assistance on this operation .**

 **4: Indeed, I can be… I hope this does not cause any tension between me and you, Radich.**

 **3: Not at all… though it is hard to trust someone who offers one claw and arms the rest behind their back!**

 **4: And that is the reason I am an Elder, and not you… Lone Wolf…**

 **1: Enough! Let us focus on the task at hand.**

 **4: Of course, as you know, we have been keeping track of the Wolves' movements after the fall of Skolas.**

 **2: Ah yes, the pitiful scavengers tried to claim some of the sand.**

 **4: They were not the first. Another House has laid claim to the wastes, one that has been here for much longer.**

 **3: And you know this how?**

 **4: Whispers on the wind and eyes in the skies.**

 **2: But why now? We knew the instant the first Wolf even thought of landing on martian soil, why would this hidden House expose themselves now?**

 **4: There have been incidents before. Missing supplies… dead guards. Shadows in the night. Among their battles against the Vex and Cabal, they had no time or will to investigate. Now, however, they have purpose. Revenge… A Wolf Baron was killed, and the Wolves have had enough. They have dispatched what remains of their Silent Fang to track down these 'sand wanderers'… they already have the scent.**

 **1: You are certain?**

 **4: Have I been wrong before?**

…

 **1: Very well. Radich, Maximus, be sure to keep watch over any activity relating to this… 'sand House'. No doubt if they are a danger to the Wolves, they will be a danger to us as well.**

 **2, 3: It will be done.**

 **1: Be certain it is.**

 **-END OF PRIORITY TRANSMISSION-**

 _3: This just gets better and better…_

 _2: How did Arrora know about all of this?_

 _3: She knows all, it is her specialty, when she's not plotting to kill you._

 _2: You two have bad blood?_

 _3: No, she is my Elder, and I respect her; but disagree on her 'Methods'._

 _2: I see… are you sure she is trustworthy?_

 _3: She is… most of the time…. What is our plan going forth?_

 _2: I will divide us into two teams. Mine will ensure that our operation remains discrete, while your team track the Wolves._

 _3: What makes you think I can track the Silent Fang?_

 _2: You were once a Wolf, were you not?_

 _3: That was a whole life ago..._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Bonjour! (Hello) I know this isn't a full length chapter (or even a chapter really), yet it still serves a purpose. I am purposely only having dialogue with this because otherwise I'd give too much away, and I still want to keep _some_ things hidden for later. Have no fear, Chapter 3 is on its way and will mostly likely be out next week. I thank all of those who have followed, favorited, and commented so far. Me and Arbiter really appreciate it.

As always, comment, criticize **(with reason!).** PM too because it is good to talk to people, I just need to make sure I don't say something and then take something else in a paranoid way because this is the internet and we all have very different lives and I am much too social online.

I thank you all for your time and commitment, and I thank my editor for finding the time in his busy days with a 2 hour time zone difference in the US to work on this little adventure with me. I owe him a great deal since he's the force that adds that extra 'flare', and smoothness to the writing, and he's also assisted me with improving my subtleties, though those still need work.

I've trailed on too long, as I normally do. So, here's where I call it.

Have a glorious day and a fearless night! May RNGESUS be merciful to you….

 **Editor's Note:**

 **What's up my dudes?** Editing this one was _easy_. We should do more like this.

Nah, just kidding, I like the longer ones more. I'm certain you guys do too. Actually though, what do you guys think about the length? " _Too long_ "? " _Too short_ "? " _Just right_ "? " _ **We don't care just give us chapter 3**_ "? (btw sadface if you guys don't care about these notes but are for some reason reading through them now :( )


	4. Chapter 3: New day, old Pains

**Chapter 3: New day, Old Pains**

The grand star rose just as quickly as it had fallen. The sands warmed quickly, extending an invitation to those in the cold, dark cave. Inside all lay quietly, only the soft winds outside could stir the deep slumber of the House...

...Except for one.

Sha'ka stretched her limbs, her many joints popping as she woke. She let out a relaxed sigh before looking around. Kirrev lay against the stone floor, Monix long gone for his watch. She snickered, Monix's disappearance would no doubt send shivers down Kirrev's spine.

She dwelled on it for a bit, plotting a ploy. She could think of one thing that'd surely break through his cold exterior, but she'd need a bit of help first… That'd come later though.

She gazed over the rest of the House, all still deep asleep. Except for a few, of course. Krystan was noticeably absent as well, along with Faxiss and Dressix, and Monix on shift. Everyone else was, thankfully, accounted for, their chests rising and falling in their own rhythm.

Sha'ka reared herself up, unrolling her cloak from the ground beneath her. She stretched it out and patted it down, setting loose the dust from the stone floor. She took a moment to admire it, gently stroking the soft, robust fabric. She looked to where once would have been a House banner, seeing nothing but the sand-soaked red that had taken it's place. She embraced it, nuzzling deep into the cloth.

After a moment, she swung it over her shoulders gracefully, bringing the chain across her neck and clicking it in place. Sha'ka maneuvered across the cave, tip-toeing past Hassaka's massive frame. She carefully sidestepped Brax and Keesa, making certain not to disturb their harmonic embrace, and travelled into the furthest depths of the cave. It was there she found Dressix, tinkering with his servitors as usual. He looked up at her arrival, a lopsided grin on his lips under his breather.

"Who is it this time?" The Archon asked.

"You know, Kirrev is looking mighty comfortable on the stone floor. I was thinking he might enjoy waking to a fresh can of your _special_ brands of Ether," Sha'ka answered. The Archon gave the vandal a slight nod, and tossed her a can, marked with a green stripe down the side.

"If I do say, I never expected you to be someone who could _play_ ; let alone meddle with one as cold as that ex-King over there. This will be interesting, no doubt," Dressix let himself relax with a short sigh, and a sadistic smirk under his mask.

"My thanks, as always, Archon Dressix. What would we do without you," She tossed the can in the air. Catching it right back where it started.

"Ah, little one, it is just good to see that my work is appreciated… no matter how odd the requests may be." With those final words, he silently bid her on her way.

Sha'ka crept back to the central part of the cave. There, still lying on the sand-ridden stone- was Kirrev. She crouched over, with the _special_ can of Ether in hand. Her fingers in her open claws began to fiddle with the musky air, as if there was something there, as she grew with chilling excitement at the prize beneath her. She'd only have a few second to make the switch; and it'd have to be done with lightning speeds, and a touch so delicate the only thing similar would be the soft landing of a butterfly. If she messed it up in any way, Kirrev's fury would fall upon her like a boulder. With laser precision, she made the switch, and held Kirrev's Ether pod in her offhand like it was a holy relic. A cynical grin erupted under her mask, though anyone would be able to see it from how the glow in her eyes shined on the little empty can of Ether. She pocketed the empty can, now only needing one more participant for her little ploy. With this, she slowly crept away, guiding herself to the cave's entrance, and being forced to squint at the sunlight that attacked her eyes. After a small pause, she continued forth to embrace the warm sands beyond.

…

Krystan sat outside, Faxiss at his right. The bright rays of the Grand Star kissed them with its rising glory. Krystan sat upon the scorched sands, admiring the desert beyond. Faxiss stood next to him, leaning against one of the many stone pillars.

"The day has risen once more, and so we must rise to meet it." Krystan whispered, sharpening his ancient sabres. Their lustrous shine gave off a blinding reflection, one that would easily give away their position in the morning sun. Knowing this, he sheathed them quickly.

"We will need to reach the city limits by midday if we hope to contact the legion," Faxiss reminded, checking his Arc swords and cleaning his rifle.

"Indeed. As much as I hate to separate us, it will be too dangerous to bring the whole House. I shall take a few with me to strike a deal with them." Krystan explained.

"When do we depart my Kell?" He questioned, standing up straight.

Krystan held one of his hands out in a calming gesture. "Faxiss, you are not coming."

"Why, my Kell? Am I not worthy enough to join you for the deal?"

"This has nothing to do with worthiness. The House must stay safe while we secure the ether. I do not trust Dressix and his _servitors_ alone with the House. Those infernal machines may have corrupted him too far already. We must hope he will be accepted into the promised land like the rest of the faithful." Krystan raised himself as Sha'ka rounded the corner of the entrance.

"My Kell," She knelt in surprise, as if not expecting to be met with two, four-armed fallen towering over her. "I am sorry for the intrusion, I did not intend to walk in on your discussion," She apologized, looking to the sands at her feet.

"It is of no matter Sha'ka. Why have you risen so early?" She rose to her feet to speak.

"I thought I could come here to collect my thoughts, and pray," she explained, keeping her gaze down, away from her Kell's. "I was looking for Monix as well, I had some questions for him."

"There is no need to pray alone today, Sha'ka. Come, sit with me." Krystan knelt on the sands, Sha'ka tilted her head, then knelt in front of him.

They took a deep breath, then relaxed their shoulders. Krystan placed his hands over his heart, clutching his necklace closely in all four hands. Sha'ka wrapped all four hands around each other, holding them out to the sun in a silent plea, her head bowed.

"I am here, my Kell, and my ears are open."

"Then listen my Vandal. Listen to the sands, listen to the sky, listen to the wind… what does it tell you?"

"...The sand is warm, but not unbearably so, yet. The sunlight feels like a gentle nudge, it does not feel like it will burn us today under its gaze. The winds blow northward, into the city. They carry with them a biting edge that will only grow stronger, especially if we travel through the open dunes."

"And what does that tell you?"

"It is a good day for travel, and we shall find our next sanctuary in the city by the day's end."

"Yes, I believe it is time to gather the House again." Krystan stood, "Tensions have risen once again, and so they must be addressed. Return to the House Sha'ka, Monix will be here shortly. I will direct him your way when he arrives. Faxiss, go with her and rouse the House."

As Sha'ka rounded the corner Faxiss stood stock still, a question burning in his eyes, though he dared not ask.

Krystan took a calculated guess and answered, "We will bring the House into the city, separating before we meet the legion."

"That is indeed wise…" Faxiss said, still standing straight and unmoving. His unasked question still unanswered.

Krystan sighed. "Sha'ka's instincts are very finely attuned, better than my own. She has saved the House time and time again, without even knowing it. Small nudges here and there, right when it was needed, before any of us could have known we needed it. I trust her instincts over even that of my own field scouts."

"Quite strange, would you agree?" A new voice echoed into the conversation. Dressix came lumbering around the corner, surprisingly without his servitors tagging along behind. Krystan suppressed a snarl. Faxiss stepped forward.

"It is not wise to eavesdrop upon the Kell, Dressix. They say a Kell's words cut deeper than any knife." Faxiss growled.

"They also say that a House without an Archon is no House at all, and we all know you are not even come close to what an Archon is _supposed_ to be." Dressix glared at Faxiss as he spoke. Faxiss snarled, reaching for his swords. "But I did not come here to spar, Faxiss. You will have to excuse my unannounced arrival my Kell, I did not wish to wake the House." Dressix kneeled in front of Krystan, a clear sign of deference. Krystan shot a glance over at Faxiss, who lowered his swords.

"Speak, Dressix. I trust you will not waste my time."

"I have merely disturbed you to inform of what I exactly need from the Legion. The servitors are barely afloat as is, and they will not be for long if we do not receive these parts..."

"Then speak now before I lose my patience!"

…

"Everyone up!" Faxiss shouted as he entered the cave. The House sluggishly sprung into action, some reaching for their weapons, others trying to pull themselves off the floor.

"Wha- what is it? Wolves?" Galve shook his head a bit, still a little ditzy with his dagger and shock pistol in hand. Faxiss let out a grunt.

"No, Kell Krystan wants us ready for rations in case we find them on our trail…" He explained, a touch embarrassed for sounding so severe.

Half the House sighed, the other half groaned. The tension immediately dissipated. Dressix, standing in the entrance to the cave, rolled his eyes and chuckled at the blunder of the other Archon. He then made his way over to Kleenix, a gleaming longsword at his side, and plugged a pipe from his belt into the servitor, preparing it for a dispensation of Ether.

Kirrev, now wide awake, shook his head at Faxiss, and let a what was supposed to be a low growl….

" _WAIT- MY VOICE, WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO MY VOICE!"_ He screamed out in a squealing fury of panic. " _WHAT HAPPENED TO MY-"_

"BLAAAAH, HAHAHAHAHA!" entire House burst out into a titanic, humiliating, laugh. Whatever blunder Faxiss had just committed, was subsequently replaced by the angry high-pitched vandal who was trying to find out who had altered his voice.

" _STOP LAUGHING! IT IS NOT FUNNY! WHO DID THIS!?"_ His pleas were ignored as the encroaching laughter burrowed its way under the iron skin of the Sniper. The fear began to sink in. Utter humiliation.

Everyone was nearly puking their guts out laughing at his ludicrous voice. Sha'ka was the most notable, struggling to keep herself together as she spewed inaudible laughter, while she hugged her chest and beat the sandy stone as her lungs began to hurt from all the relentless laughter.

" _STOP IT! STOOOP IT!"_ He continued to cry out in a desperate attempt for someone to take him seriously. No one, not even the Kell could contain themselves from relishing in the humor that was his horrendous, squealing, voice.

Kirrev tried to shy away, marching off to a secluded corner with his cloak covering his face, and his under arms up to his ear holes to dampen the pain that was the humiliating laughter.

Sha'ka was the first to stop, seeing the humiliated vandal hide himself in seclusion to escape their humor. Slowly, the rest of the House began to sicken over their excessive laughter, and came to a stop once more. The dregs didn't stop joking though, as they mumbled to themselves over the event for long after the humor was due.

Their attention now returned to their drive for the sweet, dreamy gas, known as Ether….

Faxiss made his way through the vandals and dregs at his feet, approaching their new stockpile that was spread out in the back corner of the cave. He sifted through the various crates and brought out a specific few. The ones that contained the Ether they've stolen.

He pried open the crates, one by one, checking how much they had. To his relief, there was a small abundance that would get them through the day.

He turned around and stood attentively, awaiting the presence of his Kell before continuing.

His senses' perked to a familiar hiss, coming from close by. He tilted to see Dressix filling his pods before the presence of the Kell. No one else would dare challenge an Archon on what they can and cannot do…

...except another Archon.

"What is this?" Faxiss snarled at the other Archon. Dressix was nearly taken off guard at how fast Faxiss had stormed up to him, merely inches away. "Attempting to undermine the Kell's leadership again, are you?" It was less of a question and more of an accusation. The House held it's breath as the two stared each other down. Silence fell over them like a cloud of darkness, where a single action could spell doom for them all.

"I am the sole reason that we still have servitors, Faxiss. I am simply taking my _cut_ ," Dressix snarled back. "Do not think to challenge me. You may hold title, but you are far from what an Archon is supposed to be," he backed away slowly, not letting his gaze turn away.

Dressix, may not have been in the mood to fight, but Faxiss' blood was rightfully boiling for the chance. No one is supposed to take their rations until the Kell has taken their share first. Faxiss moved first, drawing his sword and striking at Dressix in one swift motion. Until another sword intercepted his. An ancient metal saber absorbed the arcs from Faxiss' sword, before throwing him backwards. Faxiss looked up with a snarl on his face, before realizing that it was Kell Krystan who stood in front of him.

"What is the meaning of this?" Krystan said coldly, the tension palatable in the air. Dressix turned slowly, just realizing that Faxiss had made a move to strike him. Faxiss remained silent as Krystan marched towards him. Both of them were about to speak, but the House fell even stiller when Krystan drew his other saber and held them to his Archon's dry throat. "You know what I do to those who threaten my House Faxiss. Explain yourself."

"My Kell, Dressix was attempting to undermine your leadership and supplement his greed by allowing himself to take rations first, without your approval," Faxiss accused with a snarl. Dressix growled back, but was stopped prematurely when Krystan's blade pointed to his vulnerable throat.

"What do you have to say about this, Dressix?" Krystan snarled. Dressix gave a low growl back.

" _My Kell_ … I am the only one here with the expertise to ensure that our equipment is maintained and fully functional. I do believe that it is my right to decide when I take my rations," he argued with a clear resentment in his tone.

"That does not give you the right to go against the Kell's laws-" Faxiss blurted out. Krystan was quick to shut him, his saber drawing a touch of blood from Faxiss' throat.

"Back down, Faxiss, I will deal with this," he ordered. Faxiss heeded his warning and backed away. Krystan then turned to Dressix and spoke. "It is true that you are a valued member of my House, Archon, but remember," he twisted the blade at Dressix' throat. "I do not tolerate insubordination in _my_ House. You know that," Krystan walked closer to Kleenix, who had been floating idly in a corner nearby and hadn't uttered a word.

" _Ja'r'im was twice the Kell you are... she actually appreciated my work_ ," Dressix muttered to himself as his Kell filled all six of his Ether pods.

After Krystan had finished filling his pods with the life saving gas from their Prime, he announced that rations could begin. Faxiss was quick to fill his Archon share of five Ether pods with the sweet gas from the Prime servitor, while Dressix took a bit longer, examining each pod before reattaching it back to his belt.

Krystan gathered the Archon's close before the rations began.

"I entrust that my House be properly treated and respectful, yes?"

The two Archon's nodded in agreement.

"See to it that there are no further complications in my absence, understood?" He snarled down their necks.

They remained upright with perfect posture, not looking away from their Kell's dagger eyes.

Krystan was the first to finally break the deafening silence, turning to address his House.

"Rations are open! Be sure to regulate for the time being. I will return after a few moments. I trust there will not be any disorderly acts committed in my absence." He shot a glare towards Faxiss. "Though, remember, we will have a long day ahead of us." And with that, he took his leave, ducking his head so he could fit through the cave opening.

The House lined up at Faxiss first, who pried open the small crates full of pods.

Hassaka was first in line. She exchanged her four empty pods for four full ones from Faxiss, bowing in respect as he handed them to her.

Behind her was a long line of dregs. They were each handed a single pod each. The hastily accepted it, bowing their heads to their superior as they accepted the savouring gas.

Galve was next in line, who had little emotion, and even less respect when he ripped the Ether pod from Faxiss' grasp.

When he turned his back to leave, Faxiss was quick to shove him into the rock below for his attitude. The two growled at each other but Galve was quick to scurry away before he angered the Archon further.

"Serves you right, Galve!" Tasus teased his fellow dreg.

"Shut it," Galve growled as he made his way to sit with the other dregs. A little chuckle came from the many around them.

Monix and Keesa were ahead of Tasus in the line. Monix offered the Reaver dreg to go in front but he declined the offer. Keesa approached Faxiss, bowing her head and standing attentively. She exchanged his two empty pods for two full canisters.

Monix behind her also exchanged two empty for two full, returning to his post moments after. Popping one of his pods as he went.

When Faxiss reached back down into his crates without looking, his claw hit nothing but the metal side and bottom. When he looked down, he saw they had all been emptied; and there were still four mouths to feed. He shot a quick look to Dressix who was operating on one of the servitor's interiors.

"Dressix!" he called, interrupting the Archon's delicate work.

"What is it now!" Dressix rammed something into the servitor as he shouted the words. He turned his head to listen, but was otherwise unmoved. The lessers in front of Faxiss were a little concerned. This most likely meant someone had to go without Ether.

Dressix took one look at the line still waiting and assumed his purpose, rolling his four eyes with a heavy sigh.

"I will see what we have," he returned to their prime, asking for a diagnostic report as to its Ether levels.

"5 percent, what did you think? I have to feed you, Krystan, and Faxiss," Kleenix huffed out. Dressix turned to the servitor with failing sight and requested it's statistics.

"75 PERCENT," it started in a robotic tone. "REQUIRE MORE ORGANIC COMPOUNDS OR ETHER SEEDS TO INCREASE PRODUCTION."

Dressix looked back at the small line that had formed less than a metre behind him. Tasus held up his single capsule, twitching nervously.

Dressix wrenched it from the dregs tiny palm, turning to Kleenix. He drained the prime of its last remaining Ether reserves, filling the pod only half way.

He chucked it back at Tasus with little care. The dreg snatched it up in his arms and scurried away. His razor teeth gritted together when he saw it's capacity only half-full.

He sighed and took a seat with the rest of the dregs.

Brax came forth, handing his two Ether pods over. Dressix calmly took the two pods, changing the feeding tube from Kleenix to the second servitor, and started to fill them.

Through the tube, Brax could see the sweet, savoury, Ether behind pumped into his pods. His heart began to race at the sight of his next rations for the day. Dressix covered sight of the pods with his body, sneakily filling them to the brim. He was quick to hand them off to Brax and shoo him away.

A low growl was presented to the next one as Kirrev stepped forward. Dressix towered over the vandal in a dominant way, silently telling him to watch himself. The vandal bowed respectfully, taking up his two empty pods from his belt.

Dressix scoffed under his breather and snatched the pods out of his claws. Huffing out a growl as he turned to the servitor, and began the flow of Ether. Kirrev tried breaking line so see what Dressix was hiding from him, but was quickly shoved back in line by Faxiss.

Dressix slowly brought his hunched back around, chucking the pods at Kirrev. He caught them just as they were almost past him. He was quickly shoved to away by Dressix.

As he stumbled away, his eyes locked to the gauge on the side of the pod. He stopped, turning his head back just enough so his two left eyes could scorn the Archon behind him, now serving Sha'ka. He huffed with a twitch, gripping his canisters tightly in his gritty claws.

The gauge read a bare minimum, 50 percent, on both capsules.

…

The dregs were all piled up in a tight corner, inhaling quick spurts from their pods, since there was no way for them to regulate its flow of Ether.

They took very little, however, since they would need the rest for the long day.

Tasus took a couple quick breaths of Ether, before hooking it back to his belt for later.

Seeing this, Galve decided to take a deep, long, breath to mock him. A snicker and a humiliating grin to mock the dreg that called himself "Superior" to his lesser brethren.

Tasus retaliated with warning growl, snarling low so he would not attract the attention of those around him.

Galve huffed out a laugh, supported by a few of the other dregs.

"Maybe you would get your arms back if you were not such a stuck-up runt," Tasus poked at Galve's twitching nerves.

Galve snarled in response, turning his attention to his shock dagger to distract himself. Tasus checked the sights on his modified shrapnel launcher, even though they were useless half the time anyway.

He brushed off the dust on the stock and checked his spare explosive shells. They were almost as easy to make as normal shells, but needed an explosive for their extra 'kick'.

"Are all Devils of words and no action?" Galve spoke up from the depths.

"Need I remind you of my count, Galve? Or are all those of House Winter so deaf?" The two growled at each other, clenching their weapons to disperse the growing tension.

"A number is just that, a number. It does not matter how many you have slain, as anyone can slay you just as easily."

"Is that a challenge I hear?" One of the other dregs butt in.

"Yes, I believe a challenge," The dregs all formed around them.

" _Fight, fight, fight,"_ they began a whispering chant. " _Fight, fight, fight."_

The group began to draw the attention of the others around them. Although, Dressix was preoccupied with their servitors, Faxiss gave a malicious gaze that loomed over the dregs.

Most of the vandals looked on with little care. Kirrev was mainly occupied with maintaining his weapons while Keesa took her spare time to rest her head, away from Brax this time, who also simply shrugged his shoulders.

Sha'ka and Hassaka sat next to each other, watching the exchange cautiously. The chanting dregs began to chant louder, and louder.

Tasus, growingly unnerved by the display, tried pushing his way through the dregs…

"Where are you going… coward." only to have Galve holding a blade ready to slice his neck.

Tasus, stopped for a split second, taking in the words, and pulling out anger from deep within his heart.

Galve didn't even see it coming. The Reaver dreg wrenched the arm by his neck over his shoulder and flipped the three-eyed dreg flat on his back, knocking him completely out of breath.

Before Galve could react, Tasus had ripped his blade from his fingers, and tossed it aside.

Galve squirmed away and jumped back to his feet, raising his clenched fists into tight balls of fury as he lashed out, clawing at the Reaver dreg's eyes.

Tasus subsequently moved to the side and landed a hard strike at Galve's slashed eye, causing him to collapse in pain. Tasus was on him immediately, punching and clawing as Galve brought up his arms to protect his face.

"Alright, enough!" Krystan thundered his command over the lowly dregs. The group that had accumulated quickly dispersed. The whole House jumped to attention upon his unexpected re-entry.

Tasus, still on top of Galve, wrenched an ether pod from Galve's belt, took two deep breaths then threw the pod in his face and rose to his feet. He didn't have time to celebrate before he was pulled by the neck and hoisted into the air by a choking grip.

He grasped the claw around his throat, trying in vain to pry it away. Krystan brought the dreg around to glare into his eyes, focused on him for a moment, then tossed him away like trash. He slammed against the sandy ground with a thud. Galve scrambled away.

"Get away from me!" He grunted, pushing himself through all the dregs before running straight into Krystan's claws.

Sha'ka slowly crept up to Tasus, offering a helping hand by extending a lower arm. He reached up and grasped it tightly, hoisted up with a painful grunt.

"You good?" She asked, stabilizing his footing.

"Yeah… I gave better then I got," He grunted with pain.

He was pulled aside by Krystan, separating him from Sha'ka as he was hoisted around and put next to Galve.

The two were forced to stare down their Kell's fury. A growing sense of remorse filling their souls and chilling right to the bone.

"Explain yourselves…" The dregs squirmed under his iron gaze, refusing to make eye contact with their Kell. They shuffled awkwardly, refusing to say a word.

Krystan huffed a growl before leaving them in their shame, not wanting to press them further; instead, going straight to Faxiss for an answer.

"Explain!" He demanded with a howl that made the rest of the House back away in fear, including the Archon.

"I… I was watching over them. I would not have let them get out of ha-"

"They were on top of each other about clawing the other's eyes out!"

The Archon lowered its head in shame, backing away, kneeling down.

"It will not happen again, Kell Krystan," he let out with a whimpering tone.

"Be sure that it does not," Krystan hissed. "You have failed me many times today, see to it that it does not happen again, or else it is your head I would be worrying about. You two," he pointed at Galve and Tasus, "You will join me today during negotiations. I refuse to let you out of my sight for the rest of the day. Brax and Monix will come along as well," the two vandals rose when they heard their names called.

They promptly armed themselves. Galve with his dagger and pistol, Tasus with his modified shrapnel launcher. Brax hoisted his own shrapnel launcher to his upper arms, before he presented himself beside Monix, who held his shock rifle pridefully against his chest.

"You four will assist me with our dealings with the Cabal. It is too risky to bring the whole House, and I require assistance in keeping these two in line..." He eyed the dregs with a burning glare.

Brax and Monix bowed simultaneously, not saying a word.

"Good… good, now let us join together. I have something I wish the whole House to hear." The House perked up suddenly, in a way that Kirrev didn't quite understand.

Everyone gathered in a circle, side by side. Some, like Brax and Keesa stood close, the rest stood apart.

Kirrev joined in, not knowing why, and headed to the other vandals. Kirrev smudged himself between two of the vandals. Only after he nudged his way in did he realise he was squished between Monix on his right and Sha'ka on his left. Kirrev shrunk in on himself, trying to make it seem like he wasn't even there.

They gave a quick glance to the Sniper, not minding the intrusion much, and closed their eyes. Observing this, Kirrev followed suit, closing his eyes and gripping his claws. Other than the clunks and rattles of armor and weapons, it was as silent as the night.

"My House... House Glass... I speak to you now not as Kell, but as a friend. I wish to speak of our journey, our pilgrimage, to the promised land."

Krystan took a deep breath before continuing.

"We have all lost many close to us. We all mourned the passing of Kell Ja'r'im. Many of us remember the day the Light bearers came and struck her down, burning down our home and our hope. I remember stepping in that day, my first day as Kell. I was overwhelmed. We all were. We had no hope, no Ether, and no purpose."

Krystan clutched his necklace tightly.

"That was when I discovered word of the promised land. I shared my findings with the rest of the House, and just like that, we knew what to do. We had hope again. We were to find this promised land, a place for all Eliksni to thrive. A place where we would no longer have to scavenge from the wastes of humanity, a place we could finally call home again. Remember, that is why we are here. That is why we travel this road of hardships, this path of sand. At the end of the road, we will find the promised land, and we will remember those who sacrificed themselves to find it. There may be many more challenges we shall face, but if we face them together, then we, House Glass, shall stand strong."

"Long live House of Glass! Long live the Kell!" Faxiss shouted with an uproar.

"Long live House of Glass!" the House chanted, all stood together behind Krystan's words. Even Kirrev, who did not understand the words themselves, could feel their meaning, and it was clear as the sky outside. They will not waver, and they will find the promised land. Except for one lonely Archon standing in the far corner, shaking his head at the raucous display.

Krystan raised his claws to silence them after a short while.

"My four chosen, take as many guns and blades as you can carry. We must strike a deal with the people of these sands," he commanded. Monix, Tasus, and Galve all grabbed crates full of weapons, also sheathing some around their waists. Brax touched his forehead to Keesa's, letting out a soft trill before departing to take his load.

The small group assembled outside in the raging gaze of the Grand Star above, ready for anything that would be thrown at them.

When Krystan presented himself before them, he stood proud and tall with the newly acquired Wolves' scorch cannon hoisted on his shoulder. He too carried many weapons in his Kell claws, and blades strapped to his sides.

He took the lead, and his four chosen followed him, into the blazing wasteland beyond.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

HELLO ONCE AGAIN! Hope everyone here is having a great time, and enjoyed chapter 3. I understand that we have some new additions so I just want to say Thank you for following and I hope you enjoy what me and arbs do here.

Now, this was originally 'all done' but it didn't feel right, or good for that matter. So, with a week of not giving a damn about sleep, I basically rewrote the entire chapter… and deleted most of the second half, and then Arbs rewrote it again. Basically, it's been a hectic time over the past day to get through all of this, but we are both happy with the end result, and we hope you are too!

Chapter 4 will be… well, it's like everything else. _On the way_. Don't worry, we're working on it… totally working on it…

Totally.

Have a nice day!

Sincerely,

ODSK

 **SADLY, ARBITER WAS TOO TIRED TO APPLY AN EDITOR'S NOTE DURING THIS TIME. HAVE NO FEAR, HE WILL RETURN IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!**


	5. Chapter 4: Twisted Mirage

**Chapter 4: Twisted Mirage**

"I have sand in my pants!"

"Sucks to be you, Galve!"

"Quiet, the both of you!" Krystan ordered as they marched closer to the dust-filled metropolis. The silence they endured was nerve wracking, and the sounds of gunfire in the city beyond sure weren't helping.

The Grand Star's burning gaze beat down on their cloaked backs from above, watching ever closely.

When they finally reached the edge of the city, all was silent, save for a soft breeze that sang to them.

"The legion's lines should not be too far, we will make it with good time," Krystan informed his little entourage. They each let out a little groan as they lumped their equipment forward, arms full of weapons and ammo.

Krystan kept the foolhardy dregs close while his vandals were allowed to linger back a little more. They weren't tired, but the march was always a boring endeavor, which allowed pains and burns to creep back into their minds.

"Brax," Monix broke their silence, wanting to rid his mind of the heat in whichever way possible.

"Yes?"

"How is... Keesa?" The question confused the Reaver Vandal, making little sense to him.

"You should know she is fine... You see her every star rise and fall. We are all journeying together… what do you mean by this?" Brax asked the vandal walking beside him.

"Yes yes, well… never mind, it is not important," Monix dismissed the discussion, leaving Brax to shrug his shoulders and fill himself with confusing thoughts as to what his friend could be talking about.

They continued to pass down the street, and boredom started to encroach upon them once more.

"What do you think of Kirrev?" Monix started again.

"The sniper?" Brax's tone sounded as if he had swallowed something foul. "What of him?"

"You speak of him like a scorpion," Monix questioned.

"He is a selfish warrior who looks out for himself and not his House!"

"Yet he has aided us greatly in our voyage, and his complaints have been minimal," Monix rebutted, and Brax gave a roll of his eyes.

"Yes, but do you not find it odd: He found us, fighting against the machines. Him alone!" Brax stressed the final part. It was indeed a confusing thought for them to wrap their minds around. A single vandal of House Kings in the middle of a red desert wasteland.

"Once a King, always a King," Tasus growled displeasing.

"What do you have against him?" Monix snarled back.

"Only the truth… and you should see it too, Monix. He was more than with the Kings, he is a King. His attitude, his selfishness, his lonely nature. You should know, you were among them before you found us in the snow."

"I hate to say, but I agree with Tasus. There should be no trust for a slimy King like himself," Galve butt into the conversation.

"I am confused as to why Sha'ka spoke to him then instead of slaughtering him outright."

"I talk to him, and you do not question my motives," Monix replied, adjusting the surplus of weapons on his back.

"That is because you are Monix. You get along with everyone," Tasus snickered and chattered his teeth together.

"Regardless, we should not speak ill of him. He has saved your hide more times than you will admit," Monix growled back.

Tasus snarled and rolled his eyes. "You put too much faith in him. I find it revolting that Kell Krystan allowed him to sta-"

"That. Is. Enough." Krystan whispered the words, but with so much force behind them that they would have sent shivers down the spine of anyone nearby. "Kirrev has proven himself to be a valuable member of our House! I will not accept your accusations of a fellow member and the disrespect to Sha'ka for simple reasoning. You should be ashamed of yourselves!"

For a moment, all fell silent.

...

"In here, this will be our shelter!" Faxiss, along with Dressix, lead their house into one of the tall structures on the edge of the metropolis. They were on the opposite side to  
that of Krystan, and the legion.

"Fan out and secure the area. I would prefer not to be killed in my slumber," Dressix commanded beside his fellow Archon. The two gave each other a bitter look, but nothing more.

Their company dispersed itself within the structure, clearing it of any potential hostiles.

Luckily, like most of the other structures, there was no life to be found.

"All clear up here," one of the dregs called from an upper level.

"Side room is clear!" Keesa shouted from deep within the structure.

"Same here!" Sha'ka reported.

Before long, the House quickly hunkered in, setting up guard position, and look outs. However, they doubted that they would encounter resistance anytime soon.

Keesa positioned herself so she'd be out of the line of sight, while still overlooking the main door from above.

Sha'ka set herself down beside her, hugging her back to the wall.

"Get a good rest?" Keesa asked her friend, while simultaneously checking her shock rifle.

"Well you certainly did with Brax cuddling you," Sha'ka snickered in response. Keesa's cheeks went blue from the blood surging to her blush.

"Well… it is nice having someone to lean on," she said with a hushed tone.

"Like Monix?"

"Yeah, like Monix," She answered, resting her shock rifle at her side.

Sha'ka looked away for a moment, looking back with a sigh.

"Remember my warnings, Keesa… about males," Sha'ka grasped her shoulder and stared her down with all four eyes.

"Yes, yes Sha'ka, but you must not worry. Brax is a good member of the House, a good mate. I explained my situation to him, and he has agreed to commit no ill deeds until I have given my consent after we reach the promised land." She took Sha'ka's claw and gave it back to her, clutching her rifle close.

"Just looking out for you, Keesa," Sha'ka sighed. "Still, if he ever tries to force himself upon you I will make him bleed for it."

"Only if I do not cut his throat first," Keesa replied with a cynical tone. Sha'ka huffed up a laugh in response.

Sha'ka rested her head on Keesa's shoulder, letting out a relieving sigh. She let her eyes wander a bit. First, they went to the dregs, all clumped together like usual, chatting amongst themselves.

Dressix had moved their servitors to a side room and resumed his daily maintenance of them. Faxiss stood on guard, watching over them like a guard dog without his owner close to keep it in check.

Her captain and friend, Hassaka, went around their structure, checking for any weaknesses or flaws in their temporary shelter.

Something felt off though, something missing. She drifted her gaze, looking for the one missing member...

Kirrev.

...

"My Kell, I just realized that I have never seen you carry a firearm before. Do you dislike them?" Brax asked with innocent curiosity

"I have mastered the honourable arts of the sword. There is no place for a firearm in an honorable duel," he explained, looking down at the scorch cannon with disgust.

"So why did you take it with you, and not leave for Faxiss to use?" Brax questioned.

"It is simply to be used as both intimidation, and as a valuable Item for our trade. It is not often that we find an intact scorch cannon, let alone have ammo for it," he answered. "I would personally never use such a crude weap-"

*BOOM*

Glass shattered nearby, sending the squad into a blind panic. Monix and Brax leapt away, while the dregs immediately charged into the building.

"Cover, cover!" Monix shouted. The four Fallen dispersed themselves among the buildings, finding cover where they could, and drew their weapons.

Except for Krystan.

For a long moment, they remained completely still, weapons at the ready. As the thundering echo died down, they were relieved to hear nothing but the silent bristle of the planet's winds. Krystan stood in the middle of the road, trembling.

"My Kell, is everything alright?" Monix asked, slinking out of cover. He walked around to the front of his leader, only to find his Kell with the Scorch Cannon at his feet, clutching one hand in the other. Monix stepped forward and unwrapped his claws, only to find the Kell with one less finger.

"My Kell?" Brax asked, emerging from the building, trying not to jump to any one conclusion. Galve and Tasus followed him.

"In truth, my vandal, I despise such weapons for the very reason that they are… unreliable…" he answered with bitterness in his tone.

"I did not know you were so inexperienced with guns, my Kell," Galve snickered off to the side. Krystan silenced him with a stare that could turn the Grand Star to stone, and they began to mobilize once again.

"You four, you will figure out how to handle this until we reach the legion," Krystan motioned towards the scorch cannon at his feet. The Kell's chosen circled around the oversized weapon, unsure what to do.

"Arrg… alright. Brax, help me with this," Monix moved to grab the cannon's barrel and Brax grabbed its rear.

Krystan picked up their crates and dropped weapons, and lead on. Moving a bit slower now, cautious; wary that their presence is no longer as secret as it had once been.

The two dregs snickered and mumbled to themselves at the two vandals struggling to carry the enormous weapon.

From the buildings around them, their movements were marked…

Closely...

…

"Hassaka," Sha'ka greeted her captain with a small bow. "Do you know where Kirrev went?"

The captain nodded and gave her a direction that surprised her.

Up.

She pointed to the scaffolding, and guided the tip of her finger up to a level above them. Sha'ka tilted her head in curiosity and began to wander towards the exposed steel.

She sniffed the area, taking note that Kirrev's scent still lingered faintly in the air.

She began to climb the scaffolding with ease, using her array of claws to grip and hold onto the beams as she scaled to the next level.

Keesa looked on with slight confusion, turning her gaze to align with that of Hassaka's. She shrugged her shoulders like a question. Hassaka shrugged hers in return.

Sha'ka forced herself to the next level, finding it mostly broken down; worse than the lower two levels.

The scent was stronger now, giving her more direction. She followed it with silent movements, crouching low and creeping close to the walls.

The upper levels had an eerie feeling to them, being silent and only allowing the echoes below to bring her the comfort that she wasn't alone.

"Ok, ok, there is a Captain, a Vandal, and a Dreg trapped on an island. They find a magical servitor that can grant them each one wish."

"I've heard this one before!"

"Let me finish! So, they find a magical servitor. The honorable Captain, according to his rank, goes first: 'I wish to be returned to my House, as to continue serving them  
faithfully.'

And so, the servitor whisks him away. When he returns, the greedy Vandal goes next: 'I wish for an endless supply of Ether!'

And so, the servitor whisks him away to his home world. When he returns he beckons the dreg for his wish. The dreg thinks for a moment, then responds:

'You know, I really do not know. I wish the Captain and Vandal were here to help me think.'

"Hehehehe…" The dregs snickered and snarled.

"Alright any requests?"

"Oh! Oh! do one about the Kings," A dreg asked.

"Hmm… why does no one in House Kings wear a crown?"

The dregs all leaned in close with dire anticipation.

"They are stuck too far up their asses!" she screamed out.

An uproar of laughter shot out from the levels below. Sha'ka got a little snicker of her own. The jokes  
Keesa spoke were often old, or reworded, but the dregs loved them. Over and  
over again. She always knew just what to do to lift their spirits back up.

It was then she heard a small clunk from a room beyond.

Her advance was as silent as the winds, and as cold as the night. The vandal crept through the corridor, swords ready to draw.

The further she went, the stronger the scent perked to her senses. By now, her mind was starting to linger off to possibilities rather than facts.

She began to question why he would distance himself. Why he wouldn't tell anyone. She knew that jumping to conclusions would get her nowhere. Still, they plagued her mind.

It wasn't long before she found him either, his back turned to her while he polished his weapon's in secret, mumbling something to himself as he worked. There was a slight breeze from the broken windows of the room, sand spread around in every crack and crevice.

"Working hard, Kirrev?" The sniper jumped up and spun 180, aiming down his sights. It took him a rather long moment to realise it was her, giving off a low growl of warning. He gradually lowered his weapon, resting himself back down, but now with his back against the wall so he could watch her.

"You should not sneak up like that. It can be very dangerous for you," he bit his words at her, resting his rifle to the floor, and his dagger back in its sheath at his side.

"So, I have come to believe," she snarled in response. "What are you doing up here?" She crouched down a few meters in front of him.

"What does it matter to you?" He scoffed.

There was a sudden silence that refused to clear. The two glared at each other with hostile intent. A tension -neither really understood- was present between them, and amplified by the silence.

"Why so bitter," Sha'ka broke the deafening silence with a taunting tone.

He growled out another warning and tossed her a pod. She caught in before it hit her chest, and examined it closely. On its side was an unusual green stripe.

"That was the pod that changed my voice… I could tell it was already altered, the Ether tasted different" he snarled in disgust. "It was not mine. Mine does not have that stripe! Someone changed them when I slept, and used it to humiliate me!" He let a long growl escape his vocals before he used his words again. "I suggest you give a warning to your 'friends'. When I find who conducted this act against me, I will make it certain that justice is served…."

The sniper slowly brought his pistol to holster, letting himself relax with a deep sigh.

"They will pay for humiliating me…" He mumbled to himself. Growling and snarling at the thoughts of ridding the world of who had done him wrong.

He was so caught up with his malicious thoughts that he hadn't realised Sha'ka had taken a seat right beside him.

"You know Kirrev, I think you fail to see the humor that the rest of us do," She gazed deeply into the green stripe of the pod she had planted on him. A bit of self pride flourished within her, as she determined the sniper hadn't suspected her.

"Humour? I was humiliated in front of the whole House with that wretched, squealing voice, that sounds like a dreg begging for mercy from its Kell!" He pounded his fists together in an attempt to dispel the rage that burned within.

Sha'ka gave a long, deep sigh, and began to speak.

"I know what it is like to be humiliated Kirrev… I have experienced it many times… for many reasons." She clicked the pod to her belt as she continued. "But that was my life before… a life I have left behind. One I do not wish to remember…," She locked her eyes to Kirrev's, then both quickly shot them away.

"What is your meaning?" Kirrev asked her with growing curiosity.

She brought one of her sabres and felt the blade, running a finger just along the edge.

"I have learned to move on from that life, and to find new ways to enjoy my new one. I suggest you do too," She said, sheathing her blade back to its holster. "You need to move on from your old grudges and beliefs, and embrace the new. Cautiously, yes, but with an open mind."

She looked back over to see him sitting completely still. She couldn't tell if he was trying to ignore her or contemplating her words. He rubbed his breather intently, lost in a thought.

"I am not accepted in this House," He growled.

Sha'ka let out a deep sigh. "Kirrev… are you still a King?"

The sniper perked from his train of thought and gave his neck a small tilt to look at her. He seemed confused by this question, trying to contemplate a deeper meaning.

"No," he said with a revolting growl.

"Good, then stop acting like it, and you will be accepted." She raised an arm to pat him on the shoulder, but hesitated when his warning glare caught her gaze. She curled her fingers in her open claw and pushed herself to her feet, taking her leave.

"You were a King, were you not?" The sniper called behind her. She stopped dead in her tracks.

She turned her neck halfway and spoke, "I may have been in the Kings… but I am no King."

This left the sniper with even more confounding thoughts to try and place together their meaning.

"Do not linger here too long. you might be left behind if you do." Sha'ka resumed her leave, passing down the long corridor, and descending to the lower levels.

"With the Kings, but not a King…" the sniper mumbled to  
himself. "What does she mean?"

...

"Slow, slow," Krystan crouched down by the corner of an old structure. His House  
followed suit, even the vandals who held the fabled scorch cannon. "The legion  
is just beyond this street."

"What do you want us to do, my Kell?" Monix asked, still carrying the barrel of the scorch cannon.

"I will approach them, with you at my flanks. When they spot us, I want you to drop everything. Remember that, EVERYTHING. I will greet them as we have before, and gain us entry," he explained.

The Kell checked around the corner, spotting a psion patrol down the street. With a simple nod, he signalled his chosen to move. The psions, on a daily patrol, had nearly completed their shift and were about to head back, empty handed…

That was until a squad of Fallen rounded the corner, armor and cloaks as red as the sand at their feet. The psions readied their weapons and raised them to fire, and they would have, had the tall one in the middle not raised his claws high into the air.

Krystan, claws in the air, dropped his load to the ground, and his four followers did the same. Their weapons hit the floor, with the scorch launcher making a particular thud as it sank into the sandy ground a little.

The three psions in front of him bore the green and yellow, sand eater colours that he has become accustomed to over their time spent on the red planet.

He saw one of the psions lower his weapon, and beat his chest three times.

Krystan knew this signal. He had been learned it after their first interaction, and never forgot it.

He beat his chest twice, waiting for a response.

The psion beat his chest again, just once. Krystan returned it with a single beat as well, and waited for the next step in.

The psion radioed in, checking with its commander. It was a small conversation, one the Fallen would never understand as their language's differed greatly.

The psion perked its head up and saluted the larger Fallen. Krystan took a knee and bowed himself down. It was their code.

The psions lowered their weapons and signaled the Fallen to follow. They snatched their equipment off the floor, and marched on.

…

Sha'ka landed with a small tremble, gaining the attention of those around her. Keesa took a break from her jokes, dismissing the dregs and inviting her friend over to sit beside her.

"So how did it go?" She asked in a strange tone. Sha'ka gave her a tilted look before she set herself down.

"What do you mean?" She asked in confusion.

"You know... Kirrev," She pointed up to where her friend had come from. "How did the talk go?"

"Fine… I think I got him to see the humour in the little ploy that was played on him."

"You mean how you embarrassed him in front of the whole House…" Sha'ka's eyes lit up at the revelation.

"How long have you known?"

"Oh… I figured it out after noticing the fact that nothing wrong ever happened to you… for some reason," The two giggled together, hushed so the others around them wouldn't notice.

"Well, you got me, but refrain from informing the rest. It would be a shame if Tasus found out I was the one who planted that little surprise in one of his shrapnel rounds…"

"That was you?" Keesa huffed in disbelief. "There is no way you could have done that."

"Well… I did have a little help," She admitted, keeping the details out of the conversation.

A moment later their Captain, Hassaka, approached, giving her two friends a small nod to greet. They returned one in thanks.

The Captain then looked back to the scaffolding Sha'ka had climbed not too long ago. "Kirrev is just mumbling to himself, Hassaka. He should be joining the rest of us soon. I believe I was finally able to really get under that thick hide of his," Sha'ka said with a malicious tone and a semi-sinister laugh.

The captain nodded and shrugged her arms.

"I think Sha'ka is taking a liking to our new guest," Keesa said with an insisting tone.

"What- no!" Sha'ka caught herself and quickly dialed down her tone to not grab the attention of those around her.

Keesa and her Captain, Hassaka, let out a suppressed laugh. Sha'ka growled low in response.

"Relax Sha'ka, I was only playing with you," Keesa assured with a pat on her shoulder. "But I do find it kind of you to help him feel welcome."

"He has shown good intention so far, but he is far from being accepted into the House. It is his 'King' mentality. I fear it will eventually come to hurt us in the end," She ended off low, checking her sabres once more.

"Well, perhaps you can undo that. He would surely have a few stories to share. We can get Monix to bring him in one of these cycles," Keesa suggested. Sha'ka gave a shrug and left it at that.

"Dressix is close, yes?" Sha'ka looked up to her captain, rising to her feet. Hassaka gave her a single nod and a direction to follow. Sha'ka bowed and thanked her Captain before venturing off.

"Ah, Hassaka," Faxiss marched up to the Captain, his sabres sheathed, but rifle at the ready. Hassaka bowed at the presence of one higher. "I need you to come with me for a moment," he ordered, and she followed by his side.

They found peace in a nearby side room, out of sight of the others and a door that could be closed to prevent eavesdropping.

"Hassaka, I need you for a special mission. It may not be sanctioned by the Kell, but I fear for his safety and the well being of the whole House," He checked the door to make sure no one was there. "I need you to find the legion. Ensure that Kell Krystan is safe, and bring back any possible supplies that you can. Understand?"

The Captain gave a long, assuring bow, to her Archon.

"Just be sure that Kell Krystan is unaware of your presence, as well as the legion. I do not want him to worry, but we best keep a close watch over them just in case."

Hassaka gave a confirming nod and faded away with her cloaking device...

No one saw her go.

…

The walk to the front line was a short one and, luckily, silent. They had received no fire on their approach, the makeshift doors of scrap metal spread apart for them to pass through, and were put back up upon entry.

The fortifications were heavily reinforced, with blast marks from the Vex and Wolf attacks before them.

The Cabal forces gave them all a long glance as they watched their movements extensively, likely looking for a reason to shoot them.

A constant sense of danger poked at the nerves of the vandals and dregs…

But not their Kell.

Krystan and his entourage was lead through the base to a command post. A large Colossus sat on a metal crate he used as a chair. He had set up a much larger crate to utilise as a table, and another crate on the other side of the table for Krystan.

Krystan ordered his followers to set their loads down and kneel. They did so begrudgingly, snarling under their breaths.

Krystan bowed his chest to his waist, extending his arms away from his body. He reared back up, little emotion to be read through his eyes, and none through the bland helmet of the Cabal commander.

The Kell set himself down on the large cargo crate, resting his upper elbows on the table, and rubbing his claws together. He straightened his spine and locked his gaze with that of the Cabal's commander. The Cabal commander clapped his metal hands together and leaned forward on the crate, almost moving it with his weight alone.

Krystan had his entourage bring up the weapons and ammo they had carried for this journey, and set them down beside Krystan.

He brought up a few crates of small weapons and ammo, followed by spare sabres and rifles.

The Cabal commander was unmoved by most of this, but there was one thing that caught his attention….

His eyes locked to The Kell when it raised a larger, shoulder mounted weapon, and presented it before him.

It was time…

to make a deal.

...

"Come on… comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon, why do you refuse to WORK!?" Dressix shouted at the top of his lungs as he wrenched tirelessly to maintain their failing servitors.

*ding ding ding*

A small series of knocks from the door frame behind him nearly threw his concentration into shambles.

"What! This better be- oh… it is you," He quieted down at the sight of the vandal in the doorway.

The vandal approached and bowed to her Archon, who gave a small nod in return, and a small smirk as well.

"I must admit, your little ploy was rather enjoyable to watch. It has been long since I have seen someone so… serious… squirm and twitch. You have found his nerves, and poking them will be quite fun," he chuckled and placed his equipment down.

"I doubt I would want to do that again. His nerves have been poked enough, and we cannot afford to lose a member to a petty play."

"Ah, but you forget, Sha'ka the Vengeful, that out here, he has nowhere else to go," Dressix's rough laugh was less than settling to the lesser in front of him.

"I have spoken to him, and he seems able to adapt and change. Perhaps the King will eventually become one of us," She shrugged her shoulders and popped the green striped pod from her belt, handing it back to Dressix who quickly hid it within his cloak.

"Sure, you could believe that, but remember what I always say, my vandal: born a King, forever a King. He expresses his distrust through growls and snarls, but even that is a mask for deception. You should know that by now," He trailed on, turning his attention back to the servitors. "Now hold still Kleenix," He cranked a bolt back into place.

Sha'ka huffed a sigh and turned, with her cloak flashing, to leave her Archon in peace.

She thought back on his words, about how she should know better. They bit at her. A small annoying twitch poked at her neck, and burned into her chest.

She grasped her head and shook it, tightened her claws, before releasing them with a heavy sigh…

and a single tear.

…

Krystan gave a slight shove to the first set of weapons, the shock pistols and daggers.

The Cabal commander grunted and ordered the psions to inspect them. They pulled the weapons aside and began their daunting inspection.

Krystan waiting patiently, his four chosen kneeling behind him while trying to refrain from disorderly conducts.

The first set moved quickly, the psions taking the items away and to a storage area.

The Colossus gave a small hand signal and a legionary brought forth a large crate, and set it in front of Krystan. Krystan slowly brought the crate under his form, and took a peek. Within was a full load of Ether that had been looted from their battles.

Pleased with the sight, Krystan closed the lid and brought up the larger weapons. With due time, he brought their vast arsenal of shock rifles to the table. The Commander gave a silent signal and the psions began to examine once more.

Krystan was presented with another crate. Peeking inside, his chest tightened as it was less filled than the last. This caused him to let out a low growl, but it was one that was easily noticed.

The Cabal Commander leaned onto the crate they used as a table, and let out a long, threatening, growl that warned Krystan of his questioning.

Krystan slowly accepted the Ether and leaned back. The Commander leaned back, still tense. Krystan put forth their shrapnel launchers, once again up to the mercy of the Cabal commander.

The psions came forth once more, taking the weapons back to a storage area while a legionary presented him with another crate. Without making eye contact with the Cabal, he took the crate and peeked in. It was even less than the last. This time, however, he controlled the bitter feeling swelling inside him, not willing to let out a  
breath in fear of agonizing the Cabal further.

Krystan's entourage could see the pain in their Kell's eyes, and began to snarl.

Krystan was quick to suppress his men, forcing them to stay back with the command of his upper claws.

The Cabal commander huffed out a sickening laugh and gave a small, yet rage inducing clap of his mighty claws. Krystan, trying to relax, liberating his soul with deep, calming, breaths. He had given much, but only received a fraction of what he was supposed to get in return. The Kell still had one trick up his sleeve, however, in the form of a scorch cannon. The Cabal commander seemed to take great interest in the weapon, and Krystan hoped it would be just the item they needed.

When Krystan presented the weapon, the mood changed. Perhaps the Cabal sought to study the weapon, perhaps they would collect them like trophies, but neither of those motives mattered. What mattered was that they were interested, and it perked them up just looking at it.

Krystan rested it on the improvised table. Slowly, carefully, making sure to stay far away from the trigger. Except this time, he didn't hand it over immediately. Instead, he gripped it firmly with his lower claws and pointed to the Cabal's rising storage of scrap in the back areas.

Krystan had noticed the dying glows of servitor wires and eyes. The sight of shattered shells. The Cabal commander took a brief glance over his shoulder, showing little emotion in the process. He gave an obvious sway of his head, allowing his request.

Krystan bowed his head down to his chin in thanks, saying a small prayer under his breath.

"Tasus, to my side," he called the dreg forth, explosive shrapnel launcher in toe. He leaned close to Krystan, keeping his gaze away from the Cabal's.

"My Kell," he stood tall and proud, while his body shook with twitching nerves.

"Tasus," he began in a hushed tone, "I need you to find any bits and pieces that we can use to fix our servitors. We need a new sensor array, a clean Ether replicator, and some thrust stabilizers. You have knowledge of these, correct?"

"I do, my Kell. I worked on servitors back on the snow planet…"

"Good, now go quickly, I fear we will not have long," he motioned him over to the storage pile the Cabal used to keep their spoils of war.

Keeping his weapon lowered, head down, he marched his way through the Cabal. He could feel the heated breaths of the Cabal's massive forms bear down on his neck in a sickening way. He wanted to growl and get them off his back, but he knew it would only anger them and put his House in jeopardy.

He kept himself centred as he was led by a psion, mostly to keep watch over him in case he tried to pocket anything.

He took a long look at the scrap pile, trying to see if there was anything on the surface they could use.

After deducting this was futile, he slung his weapon over his back and got into the thick of it.

*Ratatatatat- BOOM*

In the distance, gunfire erupted.

Krystan kept his gaze locked with the Commander's while his entourage looked over their shoulders.

The Cabal Commander gave signaled his men to the front with little concern. The legionaries rush on towards the raging battle while the Commander was left with his psions and Fallen 'guests'

Little care or concern was shown from the Cabal as he sat on his crate and tapped his claws.

Tasus finally emerged with a few objects, one looking like a thruster, and the other like a miniature factory. He was about to return to Krystan when he remembered he still needed another Item. A sensor array.

As he looked back, a small sparking flash caught his eyes. The psion watched his gaze closely, and also caught sight of the disturbance.

The psion investigated the disturbance, venturing around the scrap storage.

Tasus, went back to finding the sensor array as fast as he could, noticing that the battle outside seemed to be picking up with intensity. As long as the slugs kept firing, he knew they'd be fine.

But as he chucked pieces of scrap aside, he soon realised that the psion watching over him hadn't come back.

Once again, a spark flared from the rear of the storage pile. With a little curiosity, the Reaver dreg brought his weapon to bear, and slowly crept up to the corner.

He darted around the corner to find the corpse of the psion who had been watching him. Before he could call for help he was pummeled to the ground as something gripped around his jaw, keeping it shut.

He was turn over onto his back, mouth still locked shut, as his attacker slowly decloaked for him to  
see...

A large captain wearing familiar armor.

"Hmmph hm-" He tried to speak, but was stopped by the force keeping his jaw locked. Slowly, the Captain let go and let him speak. "Hassaka?"  
he whispered low he wouldn't be heard.

She covered his mouth to silence him, re cloaking herself and looking around to make sure they hadn't  
been noticed.

She slowly rose off him. He could tell because an enormous weight had just been lifted off his gut. He slowly crept to his knees, still hiding with his Captain who shouldn't be anywhere near here.

"Hassaka, what are you doing here!" He wanted to scream but he  
knew that was an outrageous idea. His Captain simply decloaked and turned to  
give him an emotionless glare. She opened her cloak and revealed the vast number  
of belts around her waist, going up her chest. She was literally covered with  
Ether pods, all hidden when she closed her cloak.

He didn't need to know why she was doing it, he knew it was someone's plan. All he needed to do, was make  
sure they didn't get caught.

He slowly brought his head up to check if another psion was coming. His eyes flared with panic when he  
caught sight of the green tinted armor walking towards him.

"Hassaka! I need you to find something for us," turned to his silent Captain  
who gave a small head tilt of curiosity. "We still need an optical array! I beg of you, find it!"

As he gave his request, the Captain faded once again into the shroud that was the cloaking technology, and took the fallen psion's body with her as the other psion rounded the corner, weapon drawn. He aimed it right at the Reaver dreg, who threw his arms up in the air as an act of surrender.

The psion pulled the dreg back into view range, keeping himself behind him as he nudged him on. Luckily for Tasus, the psion seemed to have failed to notice the small droplets of blood melding in the sand.

He was slowly, and forcefully returned to Krystan. A displeasing growl came from both the Cabal and his comrades. Krystan worked to keep House in check while the Cabal Commander huffed out another small laugh.

The fighting had begun to tense up, and more and more reserves were being pulled to the front. Vex screeches began to draw near, but the Commander had little worry as he sat tall and proud on his crate.

Krystan looked at the components that Tasus had brought him, and placed then down gently. He gave Tasus a shameful look as to why there was no sensor array.

Krystan handed over the scorch cannon, accepting the terms reluctantly. The Cabal commander dragged the scorch cannon across the crate and popped it up on his shoulder. He seemed to enjoy the way it looked with his mighty armor plating.

He waved the Fallen away as he rose to his feet, bringing his gatling gun up with him, and marching off to join the front that still raged on. A large explosion came from the distance, and a hunk of metal flew towards them.

When it landed, the body of a machine cut in half was squirming to stay alive, but was quickly ended by the Commander's enormous boot.

He said something to the psions before leaving. Once he was a good distance away, the psions lead their Fallen 'guests' to a rear entrance to their fortifications, and forced them out the gate.

Krystan had them walk some good ways away before they stopped to get their bearings.

"My Kell, I-"

"No," Krystan grumbled at Tasus.

"Please, my Kell, I did not-"

"Did not what? You could have gotten us all killed by your little adventure. What were  
you thinking!"

"Hassaka was there!" he screamed up. Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment.

"What...?" Krystan looked down upon the dreg with a smoldering sense of bitterness in his tone.

He wasn't given time to answer, as the Captain revealed herself soon enough, giving away the freedom the cloak provided, and stood there holding something…

Something red,

Something pulsing,

Something alive.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

HELLO ONCE AGAIN… sorry for the long wait this took a decent while. I hope you enjoyed the 6600 words we managed to conjure up for you over these past 3 weeks. I'm sorry this didn't come out sooner but we had to make the jokes at least half decent before we released this. Luckily, this time, Arbiter wasn't overly rushed to finish all of it, in fact he edited very little, which he was quite pleased with. He says my writing's improving. I'm calling bullshit, but you enjoyed chapter 4 and I hope to see you when we come back with chapter 5! (Not as long, don't worry) However, while Arbiter may be out of school, I'm still in, and I hate it!

But enough of that.

Have a gorgeous night and beautiful day!

Sincerely,

ODSK

 **EDITOR'S NOTE:**

"Uhm, it's like 11 at night and we just finished this so I hope you guys enjoy it... I'm gonna go crawl back into my hole and die now kthxbai"

^ 10/10 editor's note right there!

Author's side note: I literally copied this message from my discord XD


	6. Chapter 5: Echoes of the Past

**Chapter 5: Echoes of the Past**

"What… _is_ that?" Tasus tilted his head in confusion. The rest copied his expression to show their confusion.

Hassaka hid the object in her cloak as she closed the distance to Krystan.

" _Sent by Faxiss; Keep you safe, my Kell..."_ she whispered closely to him, and him alone. " _I bring back spoils to help House,"_ she whispered as she exposed her chest that was completely wrapped by belts of Ether pods. " _I believe I have also found an optical sensor,"_ She said with a hushed tone, pulling out the black and red orb again. It seemed to look like an eye, but was far from Fallen.

"I have never seen that in my life…" Tasus looked at it with worry as the others began to crowd around them.

"Hassaka and I shall deal with this. Take a moments rest, you've earned it." Krystan spoke, turning away from the group. He took the eye-like object from her, examining it in his claws to find its purpose before speaking softly to her.

" _Whatever this is, Dressix should not know of it. I fear what would happen if he were to implement this into Kleenix…. We should keep it quiet,_ " Krystan paused for a moment. " _Keep this until we return to the others, then deliver it to Monix. Tell him that he must hold on to it and keep it safe until we know for sure what it does._ "

The Captain gave a quick nod of agreement before she cloaked herself and faded back into the shadows.

Krystan met Tasus' gaze and called him over.

"Tasus, ensure that there is no further talk of this… object. It is being disposed of. Now, get everyone up," he told the Reaver dreg, who listened to every word carefully.

"Yes, my Kell," He bowed his head and returned to assisting Galve with another crate.

With the matter under control, Krystan resumed their march.

…

"Are you seeing what I see?" The Vandal asked his spotter.

"Yes… it is disturbing," he replied, worry prominent in his tone. "They are a crafty bunch… and they deal with the Cabal as well!" He nearly shouted.

"They are traitors, and they will fall like all before us. They will know the consequences of their actions!" He growled as he lined up a shot through his scope.

"Hold… what if there are more of them?"

The sniper looked to his spotter's position, and then rested back.

"You bring up a good point. I agree, we should scout further, and see where they will lead us," he slowly crawled behind a dune with his sniper rifle, his spotter followed.

"What do you propose our next action shall be?"

"You shall return to the Silent Fang, relay our coordinates, and find me. We will set up a nice surprise, yesss," the two chuckled at each other.

"Very well, I will return with our kin," he announced, cloaking himself and taking his leave.

The sniper cloaked himself as well, slowly following behind his prey.

…

Kirrev sat in utter silence, his barrel sticking just slightly out the broken window, and his nerves steady. He gripped his rifle tightly, resting his finger just above the trigger. His sights were clear as day, and the light above allowed him to view over all for many miles.

He looked towards the sounds of battle, gunfire and death, and watched from afar. In the distance, he often saw the hulking forms of the Cabal locked in a never-ending struggle with the Vex. Sometimes, he'd see the foolish Wolves attempt combat with them, but it usually just ended in utter defeat.

He would often observe, take mental notes, and reserve them for later. He found the Cabal's tactics brutal and unwise, often just throw enough bodies at the problem until you break through. He often saw the Wolves use more clever tactics: hit and run style attacks, or stabbing them when their back was turned. However, fire power was always a considerable factor, one the Cabal had considerably more of. The Vex, however, were still a mystery to the sniper, as their actions always seemed to instigate without proper reason. They just… do.

He remembered there were a few times, back when he was still a King on the snow planet, that he had fought against House Devils. They were crafty, determined, but their thirst for blood often drained their numbers.

Very few times had he seen the ones called 'Light bearers'. Often, he thought they were just tales to scare the dregs into submission. There was that one fateful day, when those... 'speculations'... would be put to rest.

He remembered the cool air, the silence at his post. All was just as it should have been. Undetected, safe…

Then it hit them with the power of Ketch's main batteries. Explosions hit the front, top, sides, everywhere. Within seconds he witnessed the death of many, the entire outer defense dismantled before anyone could figure out what was happening.

A single entity responsible, a single warrior. It walked like a demon, burning the ground around it as it slayed Fallen who rushed to the defense of their home.

Kirrev remembered how he and others rallied to a defense, holding the demon back long enough so that reinforcements could arrive.

It was a heated battle that he had never experienced before. The intensity, the focus required. Several times he had just positioned himself so that he wouldn't be blown to bits by rockets that the demon fired at him.

They barely held, only by the rally of his commanding baron who nearly fell as well.

It was an experience he did not want to live through again. It was a situation that had no control, no real plan, just fighting.

He focussed though his scope, taking his mind off the nightmarish thoughts, continuing his research as he watched the battles unfold. It all seemed the usual. Random Vex incursions, overwhelming Cabal firepower…

But a glint caught his eye... far off in the distance. He quickly adjusted his sight to focus on it, but by that point it was gone. He tilted his head in confusion.

"This heat must be getting to my head," he concluded, taking his rifle and slinging it over his back. A familiar scent met his nostrils, that of his new Kell. He concluded now would be a good time to join the others.

…

"So... what are we going to do about it?" The Prime asked before breaking out into a coughing fit. Dressix smacked the servitor's side and the coughing ceased.

"I have not decided yet," Dressix answered. "Krystan is doing an admirable job of keeping our House together… but I fear his judgement will remain clouded by that book of his." Dressix growled low.

"Then why do you continue to ignore my advice? Every time, I recommend that you argue your points. They are just!"

"Yet it is futile to argue!" The Archon snarled. "Ever since Faxiss was promoted to Archon, it has always been a losing battle to argue against Kell Krystan," he grimaced as he picked up his arc welder and began to touch up Kleenix's propulsion engines.

"And Faxiss is undeserving of that title! You know you yield more power than he doe-" Kleenix would have continued had it not been for an unexpected intruder.

"eh… My Archon, the Kell and company have returned," one of the dregs said in a cowering tone as Dressix clipped his tool to his side.

"Ah, good," he looked towards his long sword. "I hope they brought those components," he muttered to himself as the dreg was relieved, and his sword taken up to his side.

...

"Quickly, inside!" Faxiss guided Krystan and his entourage into their temporary shelter, calling out to them from a level above. Upon their entry, there were small shouts and cheers of victory. Krystan calmed them with a few gestures of his claws and they quieted down.

All eyes set upon his claw that now lacked a finger.

"Do not worry, this is but a scratch," he assured them. They nodded and continued to greet each other, some eyes still darting to Krystan's missing appendage, as if they couldn't believe that he lost a finger.

Keesa immediately went to Brax and touch her head his, wrapping her arms around his waist and neck. The two purred their hearts out loudly with affection.

Monix hummed to himself as he passed the loving couple, and placed his Ether supply down. Galve and Tasus were right behind him. Tasus was relishing the attention the other dregs gave him while Galve tried to growl everyone away.

"Glad to see you made it back in one piece," Sha'ka patted Monix on his shielded shoulder.

"What? Did you lose faith in us?" he huffed out a sarcastic laugh.

"Har har," she snarled with humour. "No, I had faith, but it is good to see it was well placed," she answered, inviting him to take a seat against one of the metal walls.

He plopped himself down, leaning his shock rifle up against the wall and cracking his fingers.

"So, how are things?" Monix asked, strangely forward.

"Well... I had a talk with Kirrev…"

"And?"

"I believe he is capable of change, though I doubt it will come naturally. Like all of us, he will need a little… push," she smirked at the idea, rubbing her four claws together in a malicious manner.

"What are you thinking?" he frowned a little. "I pray you are not planning to try to hurt him…"

"Hurt him? The only one he is hurting is himself. No, we will get to him. When we gather for the night, bring him to us. We will all share stories of our past. It will be good for him… trust me," If there wasn't her breather in the way, Monix would have seen her grin widen as her eyes narrowed with mischievous intent.

Monix nodded slowly in agreement of her plan, but with obvious hesitation.

"Sha'ka, Monix," Keesa sat down next to Monix, with brax at her left.

"Ah, Keesa!" Monix chirped. "Doing well?"

"Quite, and I am overjoyed you all made it back in one piece," She answered in a soothing tone.

"Of course we are! We will always have each other's back out there," Brax assured, laying down beside Keesa with his back against the wall, while she leaned back into him and his arms wrapped around her lovingly. "I hope we were not away too long," he said in a mellow tone, as he snuggled Keesa close, letting out a subtle purr.

Monix tilted his head down and to the side, grabbing his rifle and taking it apart to clean.

"Say Sha'ka, where is Kirrev?" Keesa clicked in curiosity. Sha'ka promptly swung her head around to scan for the former King. After a few moments of nothing, she was alerted by the sound of boots on metal, and noticed him climbing down from his perch on the level above.

When the sniper turned around he was met by a set of eyes. Then another, and another, till 4 sets of eyes lay upon him. He looked at the group with confusion, but refused to stare long and quickly started moving away.

He looked back at the sound of bolts clicking into place and noticed Monix slamming his rifle back together, and march over to him. He stormed up to Kirrev so fast that it nearly sent the sniper on edge.

"Kirrev! So glad I found you," Monix opened with a particular joy.

"And what is it you want?" Kirrev replied with a cold monotone voice. Monix nearly felt insulted by the remark, but not discouraged.

"Are you not glad that we have returned safely?" Monix restarted.

"I… I am glad," He stated with little emotion, and didn't spout a word more.

Monix fought the urge to grumble in frustration, and instead let out a false chuckle to lighten up.

"Haha! Yes yes, good… would you care to join us, Kirrev?" He invited, nudging him a little with his words.

The sniper looked at him with a blank stare...

He asked a single question. "Why?"

Monix rolled his eyes. "It will be fun! You rarely spend time with any of us, and we thought it would be good to invite you in more often. We will relax and talk a bit. Have a good time, yes?"

Kirrev looked past Monix, eyeing Sha'ka and Keesa who were waving them over, but also taking note of Brax who gave him a challenging glare.

For some reason, he felt slightly compelled to accept Monix's offer.

"Ok… I will sit with you," He confirmed, looking back to Monix.

"There ya go… come come," He brought him over to the others and eased himself down.

Kirrev slowly knelt down, setting his wire rifle just to his side.

"Still cautious as ever Kirrev?" Keesa said in a joking manner.

"If you think your attempted humour is welcomed by me, I would warn you to stray against it," He snarled in return.

"Relax Kirrev, we are all here to relax and enjoy each other's company," Sha'ka assured.

Kirrev gave her a blank glare and silenced her.

"Eh, what does _he_ know about humour anyway. _Kings_ don't know humour!" Brax exclaimed with a confident smirk hidden behind his mask.

"I _can_ vouch for that," Sha'ka broke in with a reserved chuckle under her mask. "Kings do have a very... _odd..._ sense of humour."

"Well then you must be quite the exception," Keesa complimented her friend.

"True… most Kings prefer tales of blood and victory, and trust me, Kirrev, we have plenty of those if you'd like to hear them, heheh," Sha'ka added.

Kirrev gave them all a slight shrug of approval, while keeping a blank, unreadable stare.

"Well then, how about with something _cheerful_ , yes?" Keesa clapped her pairs of claws together in joy. "You may enjoy this, Kirrev. It was my first kill." She gave a sadistic smile hidden under her breather.

The sniper stretched his neck and stared at her attentively, showing slight interest with the small glow from his eyes.

The others turned in a little, eager to here her tale.

"It all started on the snow planet. I was coming of age within House of Devils. You should remember this one Monix, you were there," She began.

"Ahhh, yes. I remember. It was your first outgoing mission," Monix recalled.

"I hoped it would be my last… see where that has gotten us, yes?" Keesa added.

Monix rolled his eyes a little and rolled his shoulders, letting out a small reserved snicker. Sha'ka checked her sabres while Kirrev stared at Keesa intently.

"Yes yes," Monix started, "You and I were assigned to find information regarding the Kings and Light Bearers!"

"Yes, and it was an extremely risky mission. I am surprised they sent you on it, Monix."

"That is because they wanted you to come back." The group all puffed out a laugh… all except Kirrev, who just sat there waiting for the story to continue. "They would not have sent me with you otherwise."

"Yes yes, but remember the Captain we found?"

"Ahhh, yes. That one," Monix answered.

"He was my first kill. Up until that point, I had only dream of drawing blood, seeing the fear in my opponent's eyes… and that day, that dream became a reality," she laughed maniacally. "I lured him over behind a set of bushes by throwing rocks. Rocks! Oh… his reaction was priceless when he saw the flash of my shock daggers digging into his flesh, and my claws tearing at his neck!" She laughed sadistically.

"heheheheheh," all except Kirrev gave a rough chuckle. The sniper simply cracked his neck and stared at them. A moment later, Kirrev released a low form of a laugh, but it was, for the most part, reserved under his mask.

…

Dressix approached Krystan in a sly manner, giving him a suggestive look.

"I expect you have the necessary components?" Dressix inferred, since they had returned with extra weapons.

"Yes, I have an extra replicator and a stabilizer unit," he answered, but with a tad of bitterness in his tone as he handed the components off to Dressix

"And what of the optical array?" Dressix asked, leading his Kell to the servitors while examining the components he had been given.

"We were unable to acquire one."

"What!" Dressix shouted. "What do you mean _unable to acquire!?_ We _need_ that optical array. This servitor is nearly flying blind, with only its close-range radar to keep it next to the other servitors!" Dressix growled in anger. Krystan snorted in retaliation.

"I understand our current predicament, but we will have to make due with what we have. If it were not for the Cabal's greed we would have received plenty, but that was the risk. I am just glad we will have enough Ether to get us through the coming days. You should be thanking me, for I did not give up those weapons lightly. I held back on the scorch cannon to ensure we would receive these two components here," Krystan ranted on, seemingly without end, with Dressix's growls turning lower and deeper.

"Do not lecture me of your _deeds_ for our House… I have lived through them all…" Dressix snarled, punching in the new thruster into Kleenix, and applying the new Ether module to the other servitor.

Kleenix sprung up, using his new stabilizer, and started to test it, floating around the small room Dressix had chosen as his workshop.

"How much longer, Krystan… how much longer till we reach your _promised land_?" He growled as he sat himself back down and began his work once more.

"A little faith, Dressix, is all that I ask… a little faith," he spoke softly, leaving the Archon to his daunting work once more.

" _A little faith,"_ Dressix snarled in a bitter tone. " _a little faith is what led us here in the first place. How many more must perish before we lose it once again?"_

"They are fools, Dressix… if only they would see-"

"Do not lecture me too, Kleenix. I have had too much to think about today. I am glad they were able to bargain for the little Ether we got, and the replicator we needed to keep the House going. I no longer have to fear for carrying you once more either."

"ahhhh, and I thought you _loved_ to carry me, back when we were… you know… _golden_ ," he spoke in a suggestive manner, while keeping his robotic voice low.

"I never _liked_ hulking your husk across that frigid wasteland, but I would rather not leave my latest creation frosting away in some mountain side," Dressix scoffed, wrenching in more components into the other servitors.

"And where would the House be if you did not carry me? If you did not create me with the K-"

"Dressix!" Faxiss stormed into the small room, causing Kleenix to shut his speech program entirely. "We need to talk…"

…

"I am a King no more," Kirrev hissed.

"Really? I have yet to notice the difference."

"Quit it, Brax," Sha'ka shut him up with a commanding tone. "Now,

"I am not a King," Kirrev hissed.

"Oh… keep telling yourself that."

"Brax, shut it," Sha'ka growled. "We are not here to aggravate each other. We are here to enjoy each other's company for a change, relax over a few of our tales."

"Agreed," Monix nodded, "now is not the time for this. We are all House Glass here."

Brax backed off and Kirrev rolled his shoulders again. Both set off a low growl but were just as quick to not cause further tensions.

"Very well… I will continue," Brax began. "With the story about the day when I met my lovely Keesa," He nuzzled against her, both letting out a soft purr. "Let me teach you a lesson, _King_ , for I doubt you have ever been taught the lesson of love."

Kirrev gave a blank stare, and nothing more.

"I remember that fateful day, within the ruins of old, on the jungle world," he began. "When my eyes caught the most wonderful display of combat I had ever scene. Sent out by my former Baroness to secure the members of an unknown House from Vex annihilation. The first one I laid my eyes upon was you," he hugged Keesa close. "A strong fierce warrior of your House. You fought valiantly against the machines."

"As did you, Brax. When you jumped in first and put yourself beside us in arms," she leaned into him with a purr and a giggle.

Kirrev was less than amused… to say the least. He gave a blank glare, trying to pick away the info to determine a useful meaning.

"It was the first and only day I had ever experienced two Houses fighting side by side. The battle was intense, yet when the smoke cleared, we were back up to each other's throats… yet it was you, Keesa, who stopped that."

"Oh… you give me too much credit."

Monix could see her eyes wander as her cheeks began to blush under her mask.

"But it is true. You were the first to jump between us, Keesa," Sha'ka spoke up. "Without you two coming between us there would likely have been a bloodbath. Many would have died!" She stressed.

"Indeed, and we must thank both of you for it," Monix mumbled. Shifting his gaze back and forth.

"Yes, and it allowed for my former Baroness to meet my new Kell," Brax continued. "After the machine's ambushed, we had been blessed by your arrival. Your Kell and my former Baroness got along quite well. Tensions were still fresh, yes, but they quickly came to an understanding, if I do recall correctly."

"Indeed, though I do find it odd how she did not claim anything as payment for our stay," Sha'ka said in a curious tone.

"Yes, but that is not the focus," Brax reminded. "It was how I met you, Keesa, that is important. We had to share quarters for the night. You told me of your adventure, and of how one stolen away from House Devils, one who escaped the grasp of House Kings. How you, Monix, Sha'ka, and Hassaka tracked this mystical House. Of your triumphs against the Kings! And voyage you undertook to reach Venus." Brax moved and looked right into Keesa's eyes a calm, affectionate purr was released. "She is an amazing warrior, and… I do not know how to explain it, but you captivated me. Some force deep within me compelled me to join you… and so I did. The rest of you know, but Kirrev over here is new, so I will explain." He motioned everyone's gaze to the silent observer among them.

Kirrev leaned back as they turned to face him, and then leaned forward intently as the attention slowly returned to Brax and Keesa.

"I decided to join House of Glass. my reason: Keesa. I even brought a group of my followers… in truth, Galve would not have been my first pick, but he is a remarkable warrior. He, like me, have proven our devotion by spilling blood in House Glass' name!" He and Keesa cheered.

"Hey, wait a minute, you are forgetting some important parts of this story," Monix was quick to squander on their joy. "You forgot to mention what happened to Yissix-"

At the mere mention of the name Brax went cold and snarled, Keesa groaned in disgust and a roll from her set of four eyes, and Sha'ka looked like she was going hurl, she covered her breather and took a deep breath.

There was a long silence among the group. The dregs close by took slight notice before returning to their own discussions.

Kirrev was left confounded and curious. He debated to himself who this 'Yissix' person could be, as the very mention of his name was given such extreme reactions back.

"We do not need to mention _Yissix_ ," Keesa snarled.

"He was one of our House, Keesa-"

"And he was a fool," Sha'ka cut him off.

"I barely knew him… but he should have known better," Brax spat and growled.

"Who is Yissix?" Kirrev broke in, having all eyes train on him, most in disgust of hearing the name.

"Oh… where to begin-" Monix was cut short by a sharp claw digging into his shoulder pad.

Sha'ka looked him dead in the eyes and growled, "How about we reserve questions for later, Monix?"

…

"So… what was it like!" the dregs crowded around Tasus like a beacon of light attracting moths. Tasus himself took a few moments to stretch and get as comfortable as one could, leaning back against a cold, rusted metal wall.

"Well," he grunted, "unless you like the presence of impending death as a constant fear, I would not recommend crossing the Cabal… or volunteering to bargain with Krystan when dealing with them…" he snorted and laid his shrapnel launcher across his legs, stroking it affectionately.

"heh, you find that weapon more loving than any of us!" one of the dregs blabbered out, causing a small eruption of snarling snickers to spark.

"Yes yes… alright, enough. Would you like a story?" he collected their attention.

"A story?" one dreg said.

"Oh, yesyesyes, a story would be nice!" another requested.

Tasus eyed each of the five dregs seated around him, and held a long maniacal smile.

"Alright, a story it is then!" He announced. Small reserved cheers came from those around him.

Galve loomed in the distance… watching closely.

"There was a time when I was a Vandal… you should know this," he pointed towards two of the dregs who nodded in agreement. "Alright, well, before my… incident… I was a Kell's guard, under Kell-"

"Kell's guard? You! Do not make me laugh, Tasus," Galve barged in on the conversation. "How, on any of these forsaken worlds, did you manage to become a _Kell's guard_?"

"It is quite simple, Galve, when you have a kill count as high as mine," He returned a sinister smile.

"Oh please, a single guard is nothing without his team. Who was your partner?"

Tasus seemed to slow down, and tap his claws on his knees… contemplating. He let his jaw drop a little. Nervous.

"Barkiss…" He said the name and slowly turned his head away from Galve.

"Barkiss… her!" Galve laughed a bit, snorting a laugh. "She was your partner!?" He began to laugh louder.

"Barkiss the _faithful_ was your partner… well, this is a story indeed…" Galve took a seat amongst the dregs.

Tasus gritted his teeth and looked around the room.

All the dregs surrounded Tasus... anxiously waiting for what he would say.

"Well I… uh… what do you want me to talk about?" He asked, a slight fear in his tone as his gaze failed to focus on anything.

Galve leaned in and slithered his tongue. "You know exactly what I am talking about… I only knew her for a very short time... before she died… I would like a… _history lesson_." Galve leaned back, with a spear like glare from his three eyes.

Tasus growled at him, chattering his teeth together in annoyance.

"oh… It seems I hit a nerve… did she mean something to you?" Galve poked closer, and Tasus began to growl deeper.

"I need you to mind your own past, Galve."

"Or what? You gonna kill me over it? Do not make threats you cannot act upon… did she hurt you? Is that why you let her… _die!"_

"COME HERE YOU BLASTED DREG!" Tasus sprang onto Galve, whose three eyes shot open like he had just seen his end. He struggled to get Tasus' firm claws off his neck.

"GET HIM OFF ME!" Galve shouted as the claws tightened around his neck. The group of dregs around them used all their might to separate the two, and finally managed to do it as Galve began to turn blue.

They hauled Tasus away, getting between the two, and kept them at bay while Galve rubbed his neck.

"I see why you were docked… you are unstable… you would so easily disregard the lives of your fellow Fallen, and selfishly use them so that you may live!" He scolded, as Tasus tried to break free from the dregs holding him back. "You _deserved_ everything you _got_!"

"You were not there during the first raid… you know nothing of what we went through, what _I_ went through…"

"If you were really a Kell's guard, you should have died with the first one… so explain to me, why both of you lived past your first Kell!" Galve shouted in his face.

Tasus had no response. He just ducked his head in shame, growling low.

The dregs let go of Tasus, and the five dregs split themselves apart. Two stayed by Tasus while the three others went with Galve.

Galve sensed a victory, gaining support while diminishing his resistance. He gave a smug smile of accomplishment...

His victory was short lived…

"GALVE! TASUS!" Krystan screeched and cursed their names as he marched upon them, taking both of them up by their throats with his meaty claws. "And to think I thought highly of my Reaver dregs. To think you would understand the responsibility that came with it. Yet here you squabble like children! So, tell me… what do you have to say for yourselves?"

"My- hrrrr, Kell!" Tasus cried out, struggling to breath. "Galve has done nothing but provoke hostilities!" Krystan saw how much force he was bearing down upon their small airways and lessened his grip. "I demand he be demoted at once!"

"DEMOTE ME!" Galve shot out. "You fail to control your actions. You let your _emotions_ get the better of you. If anyone should be demoted, it is you!" He clawed at Tasus, who clawed back. Krystan sighed at both of them and dropped them to the floor, letting them hit the ground hard.

"If I was any other Kell, of any other House, you would both be dead right now… or worse," Krystan mumbled in a deathly tone. "But I am not one of _those_ Kells. What I have, is a far more complicated task… I need you two to work together-"

"Never!" Galve shouted.

"That is foolish and impossible-"

"SILENCE!" Krystan exclaimed. The dregs visibly flinched and fell over, almost as if he'd hit them, and Galve and Tasus both shut their exposed, toothy mouths. "You two are the most fearsome of our dregs… it is why you are here today. Tasus, long standing loyal member of House Glass, you hold a liberty higher than most amongst me, yet it is because of your selfish pride you are still a dreg!"

He turned to Galve, who was almost back to his feet when Krystan pressed his foot down onto his back.

"And you, Galve, the sly three-eyed dreg. former Winter, turned Glass. You have proven an effective, and efficient, member of my House, yet it is because of your prejudice, and lack of respect, that you fail to see any heart from me, or Faxiss. If it were up to me, I would have left you with the rest of the Winters, but you, Brax, and the other dregs he brought along have proven yourselves cooperative with _most_ of the House… at least. We must all learn to find a common ground that we will both fight on, side by side. I am not asking you to agree all the time. I simply ask that for the betterment of all, that you learn to put your prideful ways aside, and work together."

Krystan marched away after his speech, knowing all too well that he had gotten his point across. The two Reaver dregs looked at each other, hatred in their eyes, but also… disappointment… in themselves.

"Let me clear your mind a bit, _Galve._ I'll have you know, Barkiss meant much to me… and her death was on her own terms… she sacrificed herself for us. Never forget that," Tasus whispered, getting back to his feet, and extending a claw out for Galve.

"So, what _was_ she to you?" Galve asked, shifting Tasus' claw to the side, and raising himself to his feet.

Tasus looked him in all four of his eyes, "She was worth more than all the Ether in the galaxy."

...

Kirrev was still confused as to how harsh they were treating the subject of a member… _former_ member, as far as he could tell…

But one who seemed more hated then he was.

In a way, he felt… lucky, though he resented the fact that his questions would have to wait until later.

"What tale do you have for us, Monix," Sha'ka asked in a firm tone, releasing his shoulder, and easing herself back. The group began to huddle a little closer, with Brax igniting the barrel of his shrapnel launcher like a small campfire.

Monix took a long, hard thought, as he stroked his mask a few times as he looked on into space. He hummed to himself, all eyes bearing down on him, until he snapped back up, and began.

"Ahhhh, I have memory... a long memory of us long ago. All except Brax and Kirrev should remember this one," he cleared his throat with a deep growl and began. "the time when Keesa bumped her head on the wrong door…" Sha'ka and Monix gave each other _looks,_ while Keesa began to roll her eyes.

"Oh… I see where this is going…" Keesa groaned as the short laughter died down.

"hehehe… remember, the Grand Star was high, and the winds seemed to whisper to us. There was this factory by the bed of sand near the water… I was watching our back while you two tried prying open the broken door, and Hassaka went to deal with any Kings that had tried to follow. If I recall correctly, you and Sha'ka were arguing over how to open the door. I look back on second, and you were just standing next to the door. I hear a loud crash, look again, and you were laying flat against the ground, holding your head, and Sha'ka was just staring at the circuits that were sparking… somehow, you also opened that door!"

"Heheheh," Sha'ka, Brax and Monix snorted while Keesa gave Brax a hard hit across the breather for laughing, which stopped him momentarily…

only for him to laugh more.

"Keesa, I always knew you were clumsy, but please, refrain from hurting yourself," Brax chuckled.

"Hehe, though we must thank her; she opened the door. We gained entree and found a recent log from House Glass. It was encrypted, but we managed to piece it together with the help of a broken servitor. When we did, it was only a matter of time."

"That it was… that it was…," Sha'ka rubbed her claws together and gazed around.

"Something on your mind?" Keesa teased.

"No no, I am just… hmm… give me some time to think. Kirrev! I believe we still need a story from you, do we not?"

Kirrev froze and stared right at her, refusing to look away as his body twitched.

"What is wrong, King? did you think you could just skip on us like that?" Brax hissed lightly.

Kirrev slowly turned with a growl but Monix got between them.

"Alright, enough," Monix asserted. "Just a little tale, Kirrev. That is all we ask, we want to hear your tales."

"But I have many question-"

"We will be happy to answer any questions you have… after your tale," Monix gave him a suggestive nudge. Kirrev gave off a soft growl, but suppressed his annoyance.

"Very well... give me a moment to uh… _think_ ," he pondered to himself. He scratched his head as everyone's anxious gaze.

…

From buildings afar, a Wolf Vandal set up so the barrel of his rifle would not peek out into the open. He set up his bipod on the windowsill, and rested the stock against his shoulder, gazing through his sight like a spyglass. He focused on his target, a recently occupied building; currently home to a nuisance of his House. He could see small movements between the grates and spaces between the metal plates.

"Hello. _.. pests…_ " the Wolf sniper whispered to himself, watching their movements closely.

Having been unnoticed during his mission, he took the time to contact his comrades, and set up a lookout point, in case there would be any change in plan.

So far, however, everything was falling into place.

" _Just a few more moments, and we will finally be rid of these infidels… where is Novgor?"_

The Wolf sniper lowered his weapon, setting it down, and slowly crept back into his nest. He popped a fresh pod of Ether, taking in the sweet gas, and tried his comms again.

"Novgor… Novgor? You there?"

All he heard was static.

"Is there anyone on this channel?"

Again… static.

"Blast! They must have servitors jamming our signals," The sniper concluded, and promptly returned to his rifle, taking a knee and steadying the stock against his shoulder.

He gazed through the sight again, checking the area surrounding the nuisance below.

Out of the corner of his scope, he noticed a quick glint from another nearby building. Turning to focus on it, he never got the chance to figure out what it was before a blue bolt came screaming towards him…

…

"hmmm… I have a tale," Kirrev finally announced, after much anticipation.

"Finally… I was beginning to fall asleep," Brax groaned.

Kirrev gave little attention to the comment and simply brushed it off as he focused on his tale.

"You know of my convictions. A murderer of Kings?"

"Yes, we are quite aware of the Captain you had slain, though you failed tell us exactly why you did," Monix answered.

"Yes… you were light on the details," Keesa added.

"I always thought he lied just so Sha'ka would not have ripped his throat out!" Brax said smugly to Keesa, but loud enough so all of them could hear it. Kirrev did his best to brush off Brax's comment and showed little emotion. Sha'ka shook her head lightly while giving a roll of her eyes.

"Well… I am ready to share some… _details_ ," Kirrev paused. "It was because of my captain's… honour…"

"His honour? I doubted the Kings had any to begin wi- oof," Brax jabbed again with his words but was stopped by a hard elbow in his gut.

"Stop interrupting. I wanna hear what he has to say," Keesa demanded, dropping her elbow and leaning up against Brax again.

He didn't spout a word after that, gently nurturing his side with his lower arm.

With the group once again silent, Kirrev continued.

"My Captain was known to be harsh, brutal… and clean… yet as I soon discovered, he held a secret. One darker than most," He took a long pause. "My Captain was a leader of some sort of organization that the rest of the Kings were unaware of..."

" _Or so it seemed…"_ Sha'ka whispered to herself. Her claws wrapping together for a moment before releasing as Kirrev continued.

"I had recently been promoted to Reaver Vandal, and with it, I found the lies and secrets only grew. Through dedication I gained my Captain's trust… and it allowed me to discover a revolting truth…" he stopped for a moment, completely silent, looking at the ground. "A fate worse than the dead, with less respect than a dreg, and all the hopelessness of a life without Ether…" he trailed on, trying to keep emotion from his voice.

Brax was about to but in again, but when Keesa began to hiss, he backed down immediately.

"Slavery… a term I never thought I would learn… one I wished it would still be a mystery to me. Fallen of other Houses chained and caged… forced to do deeds even lower than dregs… and with the knowledge that they would never be given a chance to ascend. I saw the worst our species had become… worthless servants to each other. That is why I took my Captain's life… his honour was tainted… but I knew I would not be allowed to walk free... for I fear that the corruption is spread vastly through the ranks..."

The group fell to a deafening silence. Sha'ka shifted her gaze, rubbing her claws together anxiously. Keesa noticed, confusion dawning in her eyes, but when she met her gaze, Sha'ka jerked away. Kirrev took notice, and tried to read her…

"What a load of dreg splatter!" Brax broke the deafening silence.

"You dare call me a liar!" Kirrev growled back.

"If this was what you were keeping from us, then why did it take this long to get it out of ya. Unless the whole thing was fabricated!"

"You would dare question my honour, you incompetent mongrel!" Kirrev burst out in anger.

"Incompetent! Now you've done it!"

"Brax do no-"

He ignored Keesa's growls and rose to his feet.

"I have done it? No, it is you who has disrespected _ME_! I will not stand for this. I hereby challenge you!" Kirrev sprung up, but was blocked by Monix and Sha'ka, keeping the two apart.

"Challenge accepted, lemme at him!" Brax shouted.

Brax was struggling to get past Monix when he had a tug on his sides.

"Keesa, what are you doing!" he snarled as she turned him to face her.

"Do not _snarl_ at me!" She snapped back at him. He stepped back half surprised, breathing hard and fast for a few moments, full of rage, but he centred himself. He looked back to her, disappointment in her eyes, and shame in his.

He slowly walked off, his head hung low as he bitterly scraped up his shrapnel launcher from the floor, and sat by himself; mumbling, as he grinded his teeth…

Keesa gave him a fuming glare, and turned away, her arms crossed.

...

"Let go of me! I demand a challenge!" Shouted Kirrev as he was being hauled off by Sha'ka and Monix. He tried to growl and snarl, but they had none of it. They brought him to a separate room, and threw him back to distance him further.

He steadied before he fell, and charged right back into the two, breaking for the door, but was held back.

"Just let it go, Kirrev!" Monix frowned under his mask. "Just let it go."

"Why! I have already declared the challenge, and I have no intention of backing down!"

"Kirrev listen to me!" Sha'ka shouted and drew his attention. "Remember all that talk we had about what it means to be a member of House Glass. You need to learn to forgive and let go. Do not let Brax of all people get to your nerves," She advised as Kirrev shrugged back, out of their grasp.

"She is right," Monix cut in before Kirrev could respond. "Brax does not respect you right now, and that is something you will have to earn, through good deeds, and showing loyal-"

"I have shown _Loyalty_. I do not argue with the Kell, I accept my rations and do not question the Archons. I fall in line with the rest, and participate with our meetings!" He argued, clenching his fists with an ever-rising rage, as he paced back and forth in his secluded room.

"Kirrev, you have a limited sight as to what _Loyalty_ is. Remember what I said, you need to be open and respect your fellow Vandals, and dregs alike. You will win nothing by bloodshed here," She emphasized, crossing her upper arms and placing her lower arms on her hips. Monix just crossed all four of his arms.

Kirrev stared the two down for a long moment. You could hear his breath as he puffed heavily.

"Bah," He waved them off. "You have no understanding of my predicament. I bet you do not even believe me, as Brax has already stated. You must believe I am nothing more than a liar, but I tell you, I said nothing but the truth!" He declared, still trying to shave off his burning anger.

"And I believe you! We do!" Sha'ka repeated.

"Do not listen to Brax, he only seeks to poke at you, rattle your nerves, and unsettle you. Do not let him get to you, and he will back off," Monix said, looking back for a second. "I will check on the others," Monix declared, taking his leave.

Sha'ka waved him off and turned back to Kirrev, who was still pacing around the room a little.

"Since you did actually share a story… and clear some of our suspicions, I will answer any questions you have," Sha'ka leaned against the wall. Kirrev stopped pacing and gave his attention to her.

"Very well… I have a few questions," Kirrev crossed his arms. "Monix and Keesa… they have known each other for a long time yes?"

"That is correct. They met long before they… _found_ me," She answered quickly, with an odd tang on her tongue.

"So, explain to me how a King meets two Devils?"

Sha'ka took a pause for a moment, closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and then began.

"Remember that secret that you discovered… the Kings and their _Slaves…_ well I discovered it too… and I was similar to you, in a way," She shrugged her shoulders while keeping a relatively straight face.

"So that is why you believe me… you knew of this secret? That is why you reacted strangely when I started to talk about it."

"Yes… and it goes far deeper than you first thought, though that is a tale for another time. I wanted out of the Kings and their corruption, and so I saved a few lives on the way… after we escaped, we found Hassaka…. Let me just say, I have no love for Kings, even you were a risk when we first met," She trailed on.

"I am a risk?"

" _Were_ … watch the wording," she pointed out. "You do not seem like the one who would lie… just one who would refrain from being asked the questions in the first place," She shrugged, and so did he.

"... Why do you trust me… what is your angle?" He questioned.

"It is not that I trust you… I simply know many sides to people… and you are one that I believe can evolve, and overcome. I know what the King propaganda did to you. It made you believe that if you left, you were as good as dead, and you would never find another House… they made you believe that your pride is divine, and that everyone is against you. The fact you still went through with what you did means your resolve is strong."

Kirrev pondered for a moment… giving her a piercing gaze that tried to pry away and read her soul. However, he found it hard given how she had turned rather cold, and quickly gave up.

"Ok… now I have questions about Yiss-"

"Ok, I will explain, just refrain from saying his name... he seduced the Winter Kell's daughter," she blurted out without hesitation. Kirrev just gave her a tilted glare.

"Seduced…?"

"Yes, seduced…

"..."

Kirrev just tilted his head from left to right, giving her a confounded look.

"What is the meaning of that term?" He asked.

Sha'ka's four eyes opened wide in shock and confusion.

"Do- do… you not know what that word means?"

"No, that is the first time I have heard the term," he repeated, a bit annoyed.

She must have blinked at least ten times before she thought of something to say.

"I- I uh…" She mumbled, completely lost. "I will explain this later-"

"You promised me answers now!" he redirected back at her.

"Ye- yes… I did… but that one will require a longer time to answer… do you have a shorter question?" She asked again.

Kirrev blinked his set of eyes a couple times, and then began to think again. He took his time and thought long and hard. He had a few more questions, but his Ether supply was wavering, and he was beginning to yearn for a fresh batch from the haul they had just brought back.

"Who was Kell Ja'r'im?" He asked.

"She was the first Kell of House Glass. I was not with them at that time. Krystan often praises her for bravery, and harsh yet fair judgements. If you would like to know more, you will have to speak to Kell Krystan yourself… anymore questions?"

"No… I have no further questions at this time," he declared, and marched past her; however, she noticed his previous outburst had died down, and deemed him able to not cause further trouble…

Today, at least.

…

Monix had barely rounded the door frame before he was snatched away, and forced to a dark corner by Hassaka.

"Ah-!" He shouted, before his throat was squeezed to restrict air flow so he would shut up. As she slowly began to withdraw her claw from his neck, he started to speak. " _Ha- Hassaka… what is it?"_ He whispered, almost fearful for his life.

She rolled her eyes and brought out the weird red, pulsing device.

" _I- is that? But Krystan said you destroyed it…"_ He looked her in all 4 eyes as she held it between them. So close no else could see, even if they had noticed them in the corner.

She placed her breather beside his head.

" _Krystan... keep safe…"_ She handed it to him, closing three of her arms around his single claw. Monix froze for a second and looked her in the eyes. A sudden insecure feeling loomed over him. Whatever it was she wanted him for, it was extremely important.

When the claws retracted, he held the odd device in his hand. Black with a pulsating red glow.

When he looked back to his Captain, she brought up a single finger and place it over her breather, shushing him, and then walked off like nothing had happened.

Monix held the device in his claws, hiding it from the sight. He quickly stashed it under his cloak and casually strode back to the group.

...

After Kirrev's scuffle with Brax, and his question time with Sha'ka, he at least had rations to look forward to. With a small surplus of Ether, everyone got an equal amount. Six for Kell Krystan, five for each Archon, four for Hassaka, the only Captain, two for each Vandal, and one for each dreg.

Today, he was glad that he had gained more information regarding the past of the House's members, and that his rations had been full.

He did not speak with the others after that, though he noticed Faxiss and Dressix giving each other weird looks that he originally thought were impossible. They looked… respecting of each other almost… or at the very least, _a little more_.

Shortly after, Krystan mobilized them with a few words, and set their march into the harsh lands again. They moved in a single-file line through the streets. As they began to move almost beyond the city limits, he noticed an odd metal pole poking out from a building above. He quickly zoomed in with his scope and found it wasn't a pole.

What he saw was the barrel of a well-kept wire rifle. Polished, treated, and it was right above them, just a few hundred meters from where they had rested. Members behind him gave him an odd look but kept going, not realizing just what he had been looking at. Kirrev thought on it for a second and rushed forward, breaking the line formation.

"Hey, get back in line!" Monix called out, but he was already near the front with Sha'ka.

He tapped her on the shoulder, grabbing her attention, but they kept walking.

" _What is it?"_ She asked with a hush.

" _Inform Kell Krystan that we should be on alert… I just saw a freshly polished barrel of a wire rifle in one of the buildings near our position," he whispered to her._

" _A wire rifle!?"_ She stressed, but kept her tone low.

" _Yes, but it appears unmanned,"_ he assured.

She gave him a nod and they kept walking.

It wasn't until they were safely beyond the city limits that Kirrev took one look back, at the building that housed the hidden sniper's nest.

He glanced around through his scope for a moment. He couldn't see anything but the shadows behind the tinted glass, metal grates, and broken steel beams.

He quickly moved along and kept up pace with the others. Unsure if there was anything up there…

From the distant city, another set of eyes lit up through the shadows, and watched the mysterious House march away.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

HELLO! long time no see! did you miss me? … No… ;) Come on, deep down you did, heheh. Anyway, I know there's been a long wait, and the only real thing I can hope for is that you've enjoyed it!

Now sadly, between me trying to figure out what in the world to fix and touch up on (Can't thank my friends enough for the help, thank you Arbiter and BlackWolf!) Chapter 6 will be some ways away because we always set our mindsets before we start. Don't worry, it makes things a lot easier and better in the long term (Partly why this one took so long, I sorta just jumped on).

I'm glad to be back, and hope you guys and gals enjoyed.

Have a fabulous day!

Sincerely, ODSK

 **EDITOR'S NOTE: (ARBITER YOU BETTER REMEMBER TO DO THIS BEFORE RELEASE! C:)**

 **Ok ok, fine I'll put one in. _**

What's up guys, Arbiter here. You doing alright? Good good, how are the wife and kids? Not bad, Little Timmy keeping his grades up? Oh no, better give him a stern talking to!

... **Anyways,** I'm never letting ODSK write a chapter without approval again. This thing was around 26 pages by the time I started to edit! O.0 You can expect the next chapter to be shorter for sure, I don't think we'll go this long again. _But_ we'll be sure to make it extra dense, filled with lots of stuff for you guys to sink your teeth into! I'm pretty sure you guys didn't like the wait, so we'll try to ship it out sooner next time XD

Have a good one, and if you're reading this from the future when this story is done, you probably don't really care about what we're saying too much but I hope you find our banter enjoyable xP

Author's PS: I really can't thank Arbiter enough, for helping me, and my friend Blackwolf too. We have quirky but useful system.

2 people formulate the chapter

1 writes

1 edits

And 1 screens it and points at something, telling us to _fix it._ :p

Anyway, have a good one guys! We'll catch you again soon!


	7. Chapter 6: The Cold

**Chapter 6: The Cold**

The night took over with its cold embrace, freezing winds chilled bones and turned flesh to ice.

The House pressed on, however, their Kell at the head in a single, somewhat organised line. Krystan took the brunt of the bone chilling winds, his arms raised slightly, hunch clear. Cloak and heavy armor kept him warm as the guiding Great Star faded from view.

The cold seemed to surround them like dead spirits, haunting the wasteland around them, as the last of their warm light died in the distance. The Dregs clumped together in the line for warmth as they assisted in carrying their precious Ether supply, and many of the Vandals hugged their cloaks close to their bodies to preserve some body heat.

"Th- this… is fre- freezing!" Kirrev shivered to himself in annoyance. "W-why have we not taken shelter! Why are we out here!?"

"S-save your breath for later, when you actually need it. Complaining will get us nowhere. Krystan always has a plan!" Sha'ka assured him, yet his growl showed resistance to her comment. She snapped her teeth at him. Kirrev simply turned away and grumbled to himself as they continued their tiring journey.

The faint glow of a Servitor's eye suddenly illuminated in the night, moving to the front of the long line to guide them further though the night. If it were not for the strong luminous purple light from the servitors, they would not have been able to keep the formation together as robustly as they did, front to back the whole way, shivering in the night.

Kirrev's constant self-bickering nearly blinded his awareness to the incoming light that perked amongst the darkness. He, along with everyone else, stopped dead in their tracks, with their Kell taking a few steps forward, gazing upon the faint light like a star.

Except it was no star.

It was coming closer.

"SHIP!" one called.

"SAND!" their Kell shouted like a command, and all except Kirrev understood it perfectly.

As he looked around in the dark, Kirrev could faintly make out the outline of the group scrambling to the ground, frantically digging holes in the cold, rocky sand. An internal clock ticked inside Kirrev's mind, judging his options as the light inched closer and closer, pushing his comrades around him to their limits in the frigid cold, adrenaline coursed through their veins.

The two lesser servitors were quickly shut off by Dressix and Krystan. They hit the ground hard with a thud and covered with a few cloaks, while their prime seemed to cloak away. Dressix quickly covered the servitors with his cloak and joined the others in their makeshift foxholes.

Kirrev stomped around in confusion as everyone seemed to meld into the ground, closing their eyes to hide their glow.

"GET DOWN!" Someone shouted as Kirrev was tackled to the ground. He didn't have time or need to care about who it was, only that they both hit the ground hard and knocked the wind out of each other.

Kirrev groaned and snarled in annoyance but did not rise. Instead, he shut himself up. Beside him, he heard claws scratching into the sand, clawing it out and tossing it to the side.

Kirrev tossed his wire rifle to the side and dug in. He frantically clawed sand to the sides and forced himself down, back first, into his little foxhole, he curled up to hide as much of his body as possible.

Search lights illuminated from the vessel and scanned over the surface, examining the area briefly with it's intense beam of light. Seconds seemed to pass on for days as the bright spotlights went over many in the group, those of whom it touched froze in the blinding light. With a loud thunderous roar, the engines passed overhead with a sonic boom, leaving the group almost as soon as it had arrived. it seemed preoccupied with something else as the ship sped off into the night.

Kirrev gripped his weapon hard and slowly brought himself to his feet. He glanced around for directions and orders. Almost everyone else was still on the ground, chests tight and weapons scanning the sky.

"Everyone up! Reform the line!" Krystan called and stood tall and proud. His eyes glowed the brightest, and the line was reformed within a matter of seconds.  
The servitors lit up once more, a faint purple glow at the front and the rear, as well at the prime who had elusively rejoined as soon as the coast was clear.

The silence that had dominated the group for most of the night suddenly stirred, and faint whispers broke the silence; their words clung desperately to the cold night's winds.

"What do you think it was looking for?" one asked.

"Who knows. As long as it was not us, who cares!"

"Anyone know who they were?"

"Too clean to be Fallen."

"too small to be Cabal."

"So… who then?"

"..."

"Best… we not think about that…"

"What if they were heading to the promised la-"

"Can you all just be SILENT! Or would you like the Wolves to kill us here and now!"

"..."

"Again… best not to think too hard about it."

…

Every second felt longer, and eventually those seconds turned into agonizing minutes, and those into dreadful hours, wandering almost aimlessly through the night. Their only guide being the servitor's faint glow of purple light.

"Blasted cold," Kirrev muttered to himself. "Why have we not stopped… what are we doing out here?" He shivered, slinging his wire rifle on his back, his arms tucked in.

He continued his groaning as they passed over the next hill.

"Useless, stupid endev-OOOOR!" he screamed as he fell face first into a ditch no one had seen amongst the darkness. He pushed his face out of the sand, blinking his four eyes multiple times and rubbing them to get the sand out.

"looks like the King's fallen off his throne," a few voices giggled in the darkness behind him.

He growled deeply at them and wanted to snap back. However, he was halted by an odd smell of decay. it was seeping into his mask, though it had been very clogged, but if he was getting a decay smell, it could mean something was close. He wanted to press on a bit, but then stopped in dead silence as a servitor's light shined over in front of him, revealing a torn, and lifeless head of a fallen Wolf's Vandal, with not even a glimmer of shine left in its once glowing eyes. That didn't distress him, but what came out of it did.

Immediately, Kirrev jumped back and hissed loudly, the noise was more of a squeal than a hiss. Crawling from behind the skull, a rather terrifying creature with pincers and frightening tail let out its own hiss as it tore into the decaying flesh with its claws. He had discovered a nest of hideous creatures that gnawed and feasted on the rotting corpse. The mass of the bugs seemed to glisten as their exoskeletons reflected whatever light it could.

"What… is that?" Monix stepped forward, as well as a few others. Kirrev was sprawled out on the ground, clawing his way up from the ditch, and gave off a few deep, rapid breaths before he popped his last Ether pod, inhaling the sweet refreshing scent to calm himself down as others began to crowd around. He heard a few more giggles from the dark. He growled at them.

"What is the dela-... oh my…," Krystan took a knee so he could observe the scene. The light of the servitors illuminated the ditch with a soft purple light, tinting the scene. What he saw were two rotting corpses, crawling with the gruesome eight-legged stinger creatures as they ripped at the flesh with greedy claws.

"WHY ARE WE STOPPING!?" Dressix shouted at the top of his lungs. Krystan only frowned under his mask as he turned to face the Archon.

"Watch your tone, Dressix," Kell Krystan snarled with glare. "Have you no respect for the dead?"

Dressix pouted and growled, turning away and towards their previous path. A few others turned away immediately, coughing and gagging at the wretched sight.

"This planet continues to unsettle me," Monix gagged, trying to peel his eyes away from the small creatures tearing at the dead fabric and flesh.

Keesa, Sha'ka, and a few dregs approached their Kell and knelt beside him, lowering their heads in prayer before once again rising and taking leave, many horrified by the display before them.

Kirrev stood silently, however, idly observing the bodies.

"No weapons, no blood aside from obvious wounds… interesting," He mumbled. From what he could see, there was little left, but a precise hole in one of the helmets gave the former King a few questions. Questions he contemplated as he marched along.

Krystan rose in somber fashion and turned away, rushing back up to take the lead.

The servitor's light flickered and faded, turning back to the line. As it did, however, a few lingering dregs eyed a particular shine amongst the bodies. The two exchanged shifty looks from their glittering blue eyes, and mischievous grins across their faces. They glanced around swiftly before one broke off and crouched down low and shuffled into the ditch, sparking their electric daggers to life. The sparks of energy sent the tailed creatures scuttling into the darkness, away from the light.

The two low-lifes chuckled as one inched further towards the shiny metallic object. They pinched it off the side of the decaying corpse. Raising it up to the light from his sparking shock dagger, the dreg grinned with delight. It was an Ether pod. However, it felt quite light in his grip. In an attempt to check its contents, the Dreg curved it around. Only to be greeted by a sharp sting!

"AAAAAAGH!" the Dreg screamed, tossing the pod away and stumbled back in fright as the eight-legged culprit skittles away.

The two dregs quickly fell back to the top of the grave as the creatures returned. The Dreg who was stung clutched the wound tightly with a sharp hiss.

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING? GET MOVING!" Dressix roared, as he ran up. The two dregs shrank down on their knees and gave rapid nods before scuttling on with the group that was already fading out of sight.

Dressix glanced down and spotted the dropped Ether pod. Using his great sword, he rolled it over to check for any stingers. Finding none, he used his sword and somewhat skillfully flicked it to a claw near his ear, rattling it around to only hear the sound of sand particles echo from within. He turned the dial towards his four gleaming eyes to read the status of the container.

"Hmph… empty. How convenient," he grumbled and tossed the can away, doubling back to the group to keep up, the winds whistling and stirring at their feet.

…

As the night settled, the desert still roared with a storm that swept up from below, yet the House still pushed on.

"How much farther, my Kell?" Faxiss questioned dutifully, following closely behind Kell Krystan as they pushed on through the sand blowing into their eyes and nooks in their armor and weapons with only the faint glow of their eyes to give them guidance for each other.

"Not too much longer. Though the storm complicates things… but we should be close. Remember that cave we found a few weeks ago?" Krystan shouted back over the roaring winds.

"Aye, my Kell. But how will we find it?"

"With the Servitor's light and the vision provided by god of old. Have faith, Faxiss. We will see through this storm," Krystan assured confidently, turning and patted Faxiss on the shoulder before pressing on. Faxiss nodded without question hauled himself on.

Kirrev groaned and hissed at the storm. The barrel of his rifle now full of sand and dust. Not to mention his failing Ether mask which had gone on without a proper cleanse and filter change for over a month since he'd been stuck on this giant waste of a rock.

He heard similar groans from behind him, though with darkness shrouding all around them, and the storm deafening and blinding them further, it was nearly impossible to tell who was there. Only their grunts assured him at least someone was following.

"Grrrrrr… how much longer must we march," Brax hissed and groaned.

"Maybe if you would quit complaining, Brax. god of old would be much more appreciative towards you if you-"

"Oh, blah blah… yeah yeah. I get it," he cut off Keesa and sped on ahead of Kirrev.

He heard further groans and hisses echo from the rear as he marched. Yet fainter. Softer. More distant. He swears he could hear a gasp, but it could have just been a whistle of the winds amongst the storm…

"WHERE IS IT?"

Kirrev heard someone shout.

"WHERE IN THE MACHINE'S NAME IS IT!"

He heard it again before he felt someone massive storm past him. From what he could make out, it looked to be Archon Dressix was exchanging words with Kell Krystan… harsh words. Yet everything was muffled by the winds of the storm, and his sight was blurred by darkness. Before long the exchange ended and Dressix ran to the back of the line once more.

"HERE! Everyone! Follow my voice!" he turned forwards, hearing Kell Krystan call out from somewhere up ahead. Everyone heard his call and rushed forward to see their Kell at the mouth of a large cave feeding his people into it. Kirrev quickly rushed in behind, not looking back for anything else.

Upon enter the interior was dimly lit, but expansive. The Prime Servitor illuminated most of the space with its grand purple light. Kirrev took quick, shallow breaths as he stumbled into the cave. it wasn't much better than outside, but at least he they weren't completely freezing to death anymore from all the cold winds. He situated himself in the darkest, most compact corner he could find and immediately began working to clean and polish his rifle that had been filling up with sand for the whole night. Not to mention his clogged filters that he had to somehow fix before daylight. He rubbed his chilled claws together, exhaling what hot air he could onto them before he began his tedious work for the night.

Sha'ka was among the last to enter, followed only by a few dregs, a servitor and Dressix, whom thundered upon his entry. The ground itself shook as he entered and saw to the servitors inside. Walking with heavy breaths, he found a secluded corner like Kirrev in order to settle down in, the Archon ducked his head as he groaned in thought.

Sha'ka tilted her head in confusion but dropped it. She was too tired to care at the moment. As was the rest of the House who all slumped and fell to their knees upon entry. she found Monix slumped against the cave's wall and dropped herself beside him. Tilting her head back as she gazed left and right. It was then she noticed one dreg hauling another. Its body was limp, and the eyes were all dim. No glow.

Immediately other dregs surrounded them as they all lowered their comrade to the ground.

Sha'ka's eyes lit up as she scurried up and over to the scene. Krystan came too shortly after to investigate the disturbance.

"Clear the way, let me look," Kell Krystan commanded breaking through the surrounding dregs as others gathered over the disturbance.

What he saw, what they all saw, horrified him. The dreg in question was chattering its teeth like mad and seemed to be in extreme pain from any attempt to touch him. His whole body shivered from the pain, and a what looked like drool was forming where his mouth had foamed up. Anyone that looked in his eyes would see that they had dilated to the point they had looked alien, the dreg seemed to be seizing in pain, suffering in total silence of the horrified awe of those around him.

"by the god of old… what has happened?" Krystan stopped and glared up and down the now groaning dreg, eying the now swelling sting on its hand. "You… you were stung? How? Explain?" Krystan demanded in a low voice.

The dreg, barely able to speak, did so valiantly with great strength as tears pouring from its eyes.

"Forgive me my Kell, I was greedy. I tried to take a pod from the corpses an- AAAAAAH…. Hhhhhh," he groaned in pain. His heart rate accelerating with his breathing. "Please, god of old forgive meeee…" he cried. His whole body was locked in pain trying to fight the venom. But it was no use. His body was shutting down. Organs failing. It was only a matter of time.

Krystan sighed deeply under his mask and glanced down to spot the dreg's own Ether pod it had received that morning. He clipped it from the dreg's belt and checked the reading. It was still a quarter full.

Krystan took a deep breathe, and placed the dispensing end over the dreg's mouth, and let the ether flow into his failing lungs.

Krystan began a low prayer. "You were greedy, you have sinned, and you are paying a price for it. But you have confessed this to me. To god of old. Your journey may end here, but may you be granted eternal rest, my child, on the other side. May your final breathe in this life be a sweet one. My child, may you go in peace."

As Krystan finished, the pod empty, the dreg fell fully limp, eyes rolling back. Krystan tossed the can away and slowly brought a claw up to close the Dreg's eyes. One by one. Krystan held his chest for a moment before rising in dead silence.

Yet in his silence he heard voices whisper in the background. He did his best to ignore them.

"What a waste. We NEED that Ether for us!"

"Brax, SHUT IT!"

"Dregs always to go and get themselves killed. Why does Krystan care so much?"

The room fell quiet, with only a few murmurs around the dark cavern. Four unnamed dregs surrounding the body remained still and silent, unable to look away. Some sniffled, some showed tears, and some just twitched.

For some, however instead of looking down at the deceased. They looked up to Kell Krystan.

"Have his docking caps removed… so that he may regrow them in the next life," he ordered. To which they worked right away, stripping the caps off of their dead comrade, and crossing his arms peacefully for his eternal rest.

Out from the corner, one of the other dregs began removing his comrade's weapons. He stopped when Krystan and the entire hierarchy stared at the little dreg.

"What are you doing?" Faxiss demanded in a harsh tone but Krystan kept him back and repeated in a softer tone.

"h- he said, if dies, to give his weapons t- to Sister Sha'ka," The little one explained, took the weapons and presented then to Sha'ka who froze from all the attention.

Krystan turned to her and made a fading smile amongst the sorrow. "A dreg's will should be kept as all the rest. Take them," he agreed.

Sha'ka gently eased the dagger and shock pistol from the dreg's puny claws and smiled back under her mask, bowing softly as she clipped the gun to her hip beside her saber, and the dagger around her ankle.

"So much respect for a pitiful creature," Dressix barked up. Everyone's attention shot to him.

"Dressix... to show such disrespect to our Kell and his decision is heresy!" Faxiss spoke up in Krystan's defence.

"You expect me to mourn a pathetic dreg? WE LOST A SERVITOR TODAY!" he roared, pointing out the fact that there are only two remaining. "All because of your idea to go through that dreadful storm and push us to nearly fainting from exhaustion!" he continued to rant. Faxiss was ready to go fist to fist but Krystan held him back.

"And what would you have done Dressix," Krystan stepped in. "Would you have sat back inside that old rusting structure forever. Make that a home while the Wolves sniff you out! And skin you alive while you sleep! No, I will not have it! We had to move. We had to go through the storm. Without its cover, we may already be a Wolf's dinner." Krystan snarled and ended it right there. Dressix backed away and returned to his secluded corner with Kleenix and the other minor servitor.

The room remained silent for a time before conversations resumed. Everyone wary about the danger of being lost without Ether. But they had their surplus in stock with their servitors, so most just went on without worry. Trust in their Kell.

Krystan released a heavy sigh and straightened his back. He declared that the dreg deserved a proper burial and gave Hassaka the grim task of finding a burial sight and laying their comrade to rest. She nodded without any hesitation and complied immediately, once again braving the raging storm outside with the dreg in her arms.

Sha'ka slowly rose as the crowd dispersed, yet all the dregs remained together. Tasus with them, yet Galve sat apart and slumped up to sleep along the cave wall. Tasus, and four other unnamed dregs all sat in a circle. Singing soft prayers for their fallen comrade, and themselves.

From out of the corner of Sha'ka's vision, Keesa crossed in front of her with a stern step and huff and joined the small group. Seeming to make a few of them laugh even. As they always did.

Sha'ka turned back to find Brax in a bitter mood, Monix completely out of it, and a loner Kirrev eying her from the shadows, silently inviting her over to sit. It seemed… urgent.

She sat down beside him, only speaking in soft whispers as most of the House was now trying to sleep.

"What is it?" she asked stressfully. Tired.

"The Wolf bodies we saw earlier… I… thought on it and concluded," he announced, "The bodies did not die out there. They had wounds from an energy rifle. A wire rifle. And not mine…" he paused, eying her directly. "Something, or someone else is out there… it killed them, looted the bodies, then left them to rot in that pit to make it look like they died there!" He ranted on with a harsh whisper, turning away for a second while he composed himself again. "What do you think ab-" he stopped as he turned back, feeling something slumped against his shoulder pad, realising it was her who had fallen asleep.

Kirrev tilted his head and looked around, as if the answer on what to do would be presented to him.

After a few brief moments panic, he concluded to himself to gently ease her off him and prop her up against the cave wall.

Satisfied, although tired, the sniper returned to diligently cleaning and tuning his weapons and armor. Trying to get out as much sand as possible…

On the plus side. All the sand got rid of all his lingering King's colours. All that was once green and gold, was now a solid orangey-red banner.

 **_  
Author's Note:**

Well hellooooooooooo! yessss, I'm back. grade 12 school year took a lot out of me and I practically had to redo this chapter almost 3 times… so yeah. the most I can hope is that It was worth it for the quality, I hope I keep it high, it seems quite high as of now and I do not like dipping.

it pained me that I had to have people wait a whole year for one chapter. after i had stated it'd just be a few weeks… well, because of that I will not make any more promises on when chapters release, but they WILL release. and I WILL get this story done.

in sadder news, Arbiter, my good friend, Co-creator and amazing editor for House of Glass cannot do editing anymore. it was a decision we both came to, as it would be months before he got a chance to edit stuff, and that meant my momentum was also killed.

however, in better news, Arbiter is still basically the lead plot design and character arc developer who works with me and has given me his blessing on continuing somewhat without him. and I also still have a fantastic editor, her name is Krissa, she is a good friendo of mine and grilled me hard on this chapter, but it was damn well worth it for all the people who still somehow read this. hehe, I love you guys, i'm sorry I've failed you a bit with the extremely long dead time of silence and no updates because I don't like updating with no content to present.

now I can't pinpoint when I will get chapter 7 out but there is a side chapter I can release within the month so there's that, and let me tell ya it's gonna be fun from here on out. and when I say fun I mean… FUN hehehe. Me and Arbiter designed House of Glass with 16 chapters in mind. there may be up to 18 but shorter. those could also be more side chapters, we'll have to wait and see. But anyways, I've talked too much, I'll let Krissa introduce herself.

 **Editors Notes:**

Heya!  
PLOT TWIST! I'm the new editor. ;p  
My name is Krissa and I'm here on this wonderful adventure known as House of Glass! Here's hoping that I can live up to the expectation of the previous editor, while bringing my own kind of flare to the whole thing. It has been a lot of fun working on chapter 6 with ODSK, even if we both dawdled some. It has been fun getting to learn the characters ( I will eventually remember all their names I promise w; ) and the story while editing this, and I look forward to editing the future chapters because there are awesome things lined up for the future… I may not know what they are; but knowing ODSK they are probably awesome and a lot of fun. Any who, enough babble from me until the next chapter!

Your local Voidwalker,  
~Krissa 


	8. The Agenda

The Agenda

-Aboard Wolf Ketch: Interrogation room-

W1: Please, take a seat-

W2: What is the meaning of this!

9: Calm yourself, you are not in trouble.

…

W1: We simply need to ask you some questions.

W2: Liiiike what? I was on my break, cleaning my weapon before you stormed in and locked me in here!

9: This is a special case. We need you to cooperate.

...

W1: Reaver Yissix, you have extensive training with melee weapons, with a rank rising like no tomorrow... and are former prisoner to the dissolving House Winter. Conscripted when we came to join the inferior House under our superior Wolf Banner. You wore strange armor of an unknown House and your imprisonment was of unknown reason to us. We cared little of these… until now. What was your previous House?

W2: Ha! You cannot be serious. Why does this matter?

9: Answer the question Reaver vandal… the dregs could always use another playmate, and you know what happens to playmates~

W2: Alright alright… no need to threaten me. It was all quite simple. I belonged to a House known as House of Glass, before they abandoned me to those… refused to defend me, ME, a member of their House, from those Winters and their accusations.

9: And what was it you did, exactly…

…

W1: Answer the question

W2: I uh… I… had a night with a winter….

9: I doubt that would be enough to warrant such an punishment~

W2: Th- the Kell's… daughter…

…

9: My my… the prime crime indeed. scandalous even. To seduce the daughter of a Kell and use her for a night… I doubt you would understand the implications of royalty and purity of Kell Leadership and their families….

W2: Well I-

9: you probably thought so 'highly' of yourself. You could just have your way with her, and cast her aside. How devious… are you sure you are not a King?

…

…

…

W1: So before Glass… you were a King, is that what we are to presume?

W2: No… NO, I was a Devil!… but… nevermind

9: That is hard to believe from where I am sitting, but alas, we did not come to judge you for that… what can you tell us about this... House of Glass?

…

W1: Well… we are waiting…

…

W2: We~ we were a small House. less than a hundred but had a few great minds that kept everything running. Stole technology with the aim to make it better. to make it our own, and then sell it… see how well that turned out.

9: Explain?

W2: … We um~ ran into issues with the other Houses. Most notable being the Devils… and to say they were unhappy with what we had done would be an understatement. Then one day, Lightbearers came for us… Our Kell fought bravely, but alas, was defeated, and we were forced to flee. The one we call 'Krystan' convinced everyone, save for our Archon, that we should find the Lightbearers powers. He found a Lightbearer book that told him so!

W1: … That is… huh~

9: Right… like he could read their text-

W2: It is true! He can read the demon's language, and recites its rituals like praise to Hell itself! He may not be able to speak in their tongue, but he can decipher their text.

W1: So, you mean to tell us that this 'Krystan' learned the Lightbearer language?

W2: Yes… and he was very popular amongst the House. He became the new Kell, surpassing our Archon even, as he was just a Baron.

9: Now this is truly an interesting tale… please continue.

W2: Why do you ponder me of this? ...We ventured for a time, found some records of research on a planet called 'Venus'. That is where you found me, and my… predicament. I know not of their present whereabouts, as they left me to rot amongst the spent shells of shrapnel launchers….

W1: Well… this is VERY interesting indeed.

W2: grrrrr… I suppose you find it all crazy. Impossible. I will not sit here and be insulted by the likes of-

9: Quite contrary, we find it useful.

W2: ...Useful? Could there be a more useless sub-

W1: look at these images and tell me this is a useless subject! Look at them very closely…

…

…

…

W2: Why... how... have the rest of us not heard of these murders?

9: because until now, there had been no reason to track a mysterious group of individuals on the scorched plains of the red planet to which we no almost nothing about… until now, that is. They used to only steal weapons, Ether, and components. Things necessary for a House to survive.

W1: Until a few days ago, their tales of night raids have been spreading as ghost stories amongst the ranks. Guards are afraid to patrol their own stations INSIDE the camps, in fear their throats will be slit!

9: We have been suppressing the stories as much as possible. no sense letting fear grip the troops. Until they made a daring day raid, and Baron Solkroks was slain… this is the final Insult. Kell Euryale has mobilised what remains of our Silent Fang, and they currently seek the killers' whereabouts, but even they have hit a snag…

W1: Two of our scouts were reported missing. We found them dead just earlier today. However, their deaths were not in vain, for have also picked up the killer's trail.

W2: And these killers… you believe them to be House of Glass?

W1: Before we lost contact with our scouts, one of them was able to message us and confirm that, yes, they are Fallen. They bear colours similar to your old cloak-

W2: Where did you find this!

…

9: Did you really think you could hide it? So let me ask… where do your loyalties lie…

…

…

W2: give me a flame… I will burn this cloak, as I should have done long ago, and I will help you track them, and when I find them, they WILL pay!

…

W1: I am glad we could have this talk… you will join up with the secondary strike force. Your ship leaves in a day's time-

W2: BAH, you wait too long! I want the next skiff out, send me right to the front! My blades have yearned for blood as of late, and theirs will sate it! they abandoned me like an empty Ether pod. I will have my revenge!

9: Very well… you will be going with the next supply run. It should be here in shortly, and you can contact command on the ground from there.

W2: Good… good good, I… there is just one more thing….

W1: Yes?

W2: There are two amongst their group, who I want 'alive'...

9: I hope you do understand that there will be no mercy shown to them. They have murdered our brothers and sisters. The only proper return... is to slaughter them… as ordered by the Ke-

W2: I will find those I seek. I know their symbols, their voices, their fighting style… leave them to me!

W1: Very well. Should the opportunity present itself, you shall be granted the freedom to do as you see fit. Bringing in prisoners will bring great satisfaction to the Kell when she… executes them personally...

W2: I will make it certain you do not regret this.

9: We trust you will not… and who knows, maybe this will finalize your promotion.

W1: Indeed. I will be sure to… put in a good word for you to Kell Euryale.

W2: I appreciate the thought, my Captain.

…

W1: Well, everything seems to be in order. You are free until your expected departure. refrain from being late, we already have enough problems with deadlines….

...

-Later, aboard a skiff bound for the Red planet-

W2: Thought you could just get rid of me that easily huh, Barkiss! Even after all I had done to mend myself; just one slip up, just ONE! ...and you all toss me aside like a spent shell. Well, you will ALL learn to submit, or face the wrath of my blade's new sting… hhhhhh... I will be seeing you soon….

…

-Inside a secluded room among the Ketch's quarters-

-INCOMING PRIORITY TRANSMISSION-

4: What news do you have for me…

9: Next time, tell Radich to stop killing everything on sight… those Wolves he killed were forward scouts. I do not care if they were a security risk, he is putting the entirety of House of Glass in jeopardy!

4: So, they have a name… House of Glass. How… fitting…. What else have you learned?

9: That the Wolves are just one of many conflicts they have had to endure; In Fact, their time on the Red planet has been relatively shorter than I first expected.

4: And how is it you came by such fruitful information?

9: One of them resides with the Wolves now… from before the House arrived on the Red planet. He was imprisoned by House Winter for… a crime I would rather not talk about, but he was one of them, and not on good terms.

4: I suppose his imprisonment was… preventable then.

9: Quite… though it is his fault, and they let him be punished for it.

4: hehehe, I am liking the sound of these warriors already. They still retain a high value of moral responsibility. Not common for a House these days.

9: Yes, and another thing, their Kell has a name. Krystan. After some digging with our network I linked him back to a rogue section of the Devils that branched away. One of his main "hobbies," was the research and deciphering of alien texts. Lightbearer text's. He has read these and believes there is some great power that they can find. That is why they are here, on the Red planet.

4: A power? How intriguing. I will inform him right away, and I will be sure to mention to Radich that he is… outdoing himself…

9: Mmmmm… This House yields great interest and can potentially be greatly beneficial to us.

4: Indeed, but there are too many unknowns still.

9: True… Oh, and before I forget. We should be watching close, if we are to study them further we need them alive. The Wolves will soon be upon them, and mercy is out of the question.

4: Hmm… well… then this will be quite the test… will it not…

…

9: I hate your train of thought sometimes...

-END OF TRANSMISSION-

_  
Author's Note:

Contrary to what Krissa will say. there was a lot to edit on this short side chapter… well from my POV. But I am quite lazy, and it was mostly down to needing serious focus on what characters will be saying and such, and how they would say it. *shrugs*

Any who, I'd like a shout out to my friend Activesilence64, whom has earned himself a reference; The new Kell of Wolves, Euryale, whom you should be coming up in the next few chapters of his story, when he gets around to them. but alas, feel free check him out.

now that I am getting into the rhythm of college, i'll be finding myself time to write up following chapters, and then with a dash of hope get through the editing process fast and efficient, but there's often a LOT of stuff to cover in edits, so please bear with me for the long waits.

I am thankful to each and everyone one of my readers who enjoy and continue to enjoy this little journey I am bringing you on.

As always, feel free, and encouraged to leave comments for me, or PM me. I thank you all for your patience, though I do feel terrible for not pumping out more content. hopefully that will now change.

Until next time, i wish you all a great day.

• ODSK

Editor's Note:

HEYOOOO it's Krissa again ;p

This was a rather fun little side chapter, learned a lot about the characters from it. Editing wise, there wasn't much to do but I hope y'all enjoyed reading!

Aaaaanywho I don't have much to say right now,

Small Warlock out,

Krissa 


End file.
